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TORONTO 


MASTER   WILL  OF 
STRATFORD 

A  MIDWINTER  NIGHT'S  DREAM 

IN  THREE  ACTS 
WITH  A  PROLOGUE  AND  AN  EPILOGUE 


BY 
LOUISE  AYRES  GARNETT 


fork 
THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

1916 


All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1916, 

BY  LOUISE  AYRES  GARNETT 

Set  up  and  electrotyped.    Published  February,  1916. 

COPYRIGHT  IN 
GREAT  BRITAIN 


All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of  translation  into  foreign  languages,  including 
the  Scandinavian. 

Acting  and  moving  picture  rights  reserved. 

During  1916 — the  year  of  the  Shakespeare  Tercentenary — public  performances 
of  the  play  may  be  given  without  the  payment  of  any  royalty,  where  no  admission 
fee  is  charged.  In  all  other  cases,  arrangements  for  securing  the  right  to  produce 
the  play  may  be  made  by  writing  the  author  in  care  of  the  publishers. 

The  songs  required  for  the  production  of  this  play,  and  the  instrumental  music 
(except  that  for  the  morris-dance,  concerning  which  see  Notes,  post)  are  written  by 
the  author  and  published  by 

CLAYTON  F.  SUMMY  COMPANY, 
64  East  Van  Buren  St.,  Chicago. 

The  Compositions  are  as  follows: 

A  WASSAIL-SONG  (Act  I) 

FAIBV  On  Rnniro  I  Pucks>  dance  (Act  D 

rff£E  I  Witch's  dance  (Act  I) 

(A  Carousal)  |  Fairies>  dance  (Act  m) 

A  MAY-SONG  (Act  II) 

FOREST  GAVOTTE  (Act  III) 

TTTANIA'S  LULLABY  (Act  III) 


TO 
EUGENE  H.  GARNETT 

WHO  HAS  HELPED  TO  MAKE  MY 

MIDWINTER  NIGHT'S  DREAM 

AND   OTHER   DREAMS 

COME  TRUE 


20200C7 


MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 


CHARACTERS 

WILL  SHAKESPEARE,  nearly  twelve  years  of  age. 

MISTRESS  JOHN  SHAKESPEARE,  his  mother. 

BETSY,  a  neighbor,  about  twelve. 

THE  WEE  DICKUMS,  Betsy's  brother. 

QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 

SIR  THOMAS  LUCY,  of  Charlecote. 

A  PEDLAR,  afterward  FILCH. 

OBERON,  King  of  the  Fairies. 

TITANIA,  Queen  of  the  Fairies. 

THE  LITTLE  INDIAN  BOY. 

THE  CONSTABLE. 

ROBIN  GOODFELLOW,  leader  of  the  Pucks. 

COWSLIP 

FIREFLY 

.,,  \  Oberons  Pucks. 

WASP 

PEPPER-CORN 
CHALICE 

CADENCE  .  ,        .  . 

_.  Tttantas  Fairies. 

DULCET 

MELODY 

THE  WITCH  OF  WIMBLE. 

LADY-IN-WAITING  to  Queen  Elizabeth. 

FOUR  MINSTRELS. 

FRIAR  TUCK,  ROBIN  HOOD  and  other  morris-dancers. 

Customers,  bystanders  and  rustic  singers. 

(See  Notes,  post,  for  description  of  morris-dance.) 


Scene:  Stratford-on-Avon  and  neighborhood,  1575  A.  D. 
.      T        I  The  Shakespeare  Kitchen. 

Act  II      I  _  Day-time. 

fine  Forest  of  Arden       XT.  ,  .  , . 
Act  III    J  Night-time. 

Epilogue,    The  Kitchen. 

The  Prologue  opens  New  Year's  Eve,  and  the  Epilogue 
New  Year's  morning.  Acts  I,  II,  and  III,  represent  the  dream 
during  that  interval. 


PROLOGUE 

SCENE:  The  Kitchen  in  JOHN  SHAKESPEARE'S  house, 
Henley  Street,  Stratford-on-Avon,  on  New  Year's 
Eve.  In  center  rear,  a  door.  At  right  of  door,  an 
oblong  small-paned  window,  its  sill,  about  three  feet 
from  the  floor,  bearing  a  prim  row  of  potted  plants. 
Right  wall,  center,  a  large  open  fireplace  in  which 
is  a  black  pot  over  a  low  fire.  A  high-backed  settle  is 
at  right  and  left  of  fireplace.  A  seat  extends  beneath 
the  window  from  the  settle  at  right  rear  corner  of 
room.  The  seat  of  settle  at  right  of  fireplace  raises. 
At  right  of  door  a  clock  stands;  at  left  of  door,  a 
table.  A  basket  of  apples  is  on  the  table  and  above 
are  shelves  holding  copper  utensils.  At  rear  left, 
a  large  churn.  At  center  left,  a  door.  At  center 
front,  a  small  table  covered  with  an  unbleached  linen 
strip  and  bearing  a  bowl  of  milk,  a  spoon,  a  plate 
of  bread  and  a  dish  containing  small  cakes.  A 
lighted  candle  is  on  this  table  and  another  on  the 
table  at  rear.  At  right  front  is  a  table  prepared  for 
ironing,  with  a  basket  near  containing  dampened 
clothes.  The  ironed  garments  are  on  the  settle  at 
left  of  fireplace.  A  medium  sized  basket  hangs  on 
the  wall.  A  few  chairs  complete  the  furnishings. 

MISTRESS  SHAKESPEARE  is  ironing.  She  listens,  puts 
down  her  iron  and  going  to  the  door  looks  anxiously 
without.  She  closes  the  door.  The  clock  strikes 
seven.  She  glances  at  the  clock,  then  goes  to  the 
window.  Seeing  someone  approach,  she  opens  the 


4  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

door  and  admits  BETSY  carrying  her  baby  brother, 
DICKUMS. 

MISTRESS  SHAKESPEARE 

Bless  my  heart,  if  it  isna  Betsy  and  the  wee  Dick- 
urns!  Come  you  in,  Betsy  girl. 

BETSY 

[With  a  curtsy.] 
Good  den,  missus. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

What  brings  the  two  of  you  out  tonight,  child? 
Dickums  should  have  been  tucked  in  this  long  while. 

BETSY 

It  war  lonesome  enough  sittin'  in  the  dark  to  save 
candles,  wi'  naught  but  the  two  on  us — an'  him  asleep ; 
so  I  clapped  a  biggen  on  his  head,  and  an  old  slop 
'round  him,  an'  here  we  be! 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

[Resuming  her  ironing.] 
Are  all  your  folk  away? 

BETSY 

Ah-yea,  missus.  There  be  goin's-on  at  our  cousin's 
this  New  Year's  Eve.  Dickums  is  such  a  wee  dilling, 
an'  me  such  a  strappin'  lass,  I  bide  at  home  an'  do  the 
motherin'  o'  him. 


PROLOGUE 


MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 


And  a  good  little  mother  you  are,  with  ever  a  babe 
in  your  arms  or  one  tagging  at  your  heels. 

BETSY 

I've  had  little  brothers  an'  sisters  to  give  drinks  to 
by  night  an'  wallops  to  by  day,  ever  sin'  I  war  knee- 
high  to  a  stagger-bob. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

You  are  a  busy  lass,  Betsy. 

BETSY 

There  be  constant  someone  a-yelpin'  for  a  tot  o' 
milk  or  a  shive  o'  summat,  or  bits  an'  bobs  to  do  for 
mother.  When  I  tell  your  Will,  missus,  how  fore- 
wearied  I  get,  he  sez  to  me,  "Betsy,"  sez  he,  "you 
shoodna  forget  to  jog  up  your  fancy.  Fancy  'ud  liven 
you  prodigious,"  sez  he. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 
[Ceasing  her  ironing.] 

Yea — that  is  like  my  laddie.  [Resumes  ironing.]  I 
canna  tell  what  is  keeping  him  so  late.  He  should 
have  been  back  by  six  o'  the  clock. 

BETSY 

Mayhap  he  went  by  Charlecote  way.  They  do  be 
a-sayin'  the  Queen  is  mekin'  a  day's  visit  to  Sir  Thomas 
and  Lady  Lucy.  Her  hankers  arter  a  morsel  o'  quiet 
now  an'  then. 


6  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

But  Willie  isna  one  for  dalliance  and  making  his 
mother  longful  for  him.  Sit  you  up  by  the  fire,  Betsy, 
and  have  an  apple. 

BETSY 
I  maut  take  a  dab  for  Dickums. 

[MISTRESS  SHAKESPEARE  passes  the  basket  of  apples  to  BETSY.] 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Here  are  some  scrumps  and  apple-Johns,  and  one 
or  two  leather-coats  and  sourings.  Help  yourself  right 
freely,  lassie. 

[BETSY  takes  a  couple  of  apples  eagerly.] 

BETSY 

An'  I  do  be  thinkin',  missus,  as  how  Dickums  maut 
relish  a  pikelet. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Marry,  to  be  sure.    Have  some  cakes,  and  welcome. 

BETSY 

[Eating  heartily.] 

Dickums  yent  a  scraily  babe,  full  o'  doctor's  stuff. 
A  dab  or  a  dollop's  all  the  same  to  Dickums.  The 
wee  lamb's  a-sleepin'  so  I  maut  as  well  eat  the  apples 
an'  pikelets  mesel' — we  shoodna  be  wasteful. 

[She  puts  him  on  the  settle  beside  her.    There  is  a  knock.] 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Who  comes  knocking,  I  wonder?    I  hope  it  is  no  fell 


PROLOGUE  7 

news  about  my  laddie.  [She  opens  the  door  and  speaks 
in  amazement]  Sir  Thomas  Lucy!  [She  curtsies  with 
dignity]  Your  pardon,  Sir  Thomas,  come  you  in. 

SIR  THOMAS 

[Entering.} 
Where  is  John  Shakespeare? 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

He  and  some  other  o'  the  burgesses,  sir,  have  gone 
to  Coventry. 

[Sir  Thomas  taps  the  floor  impatiently.] 

SIR  THOMAS 
Beshrew  me!  that  is  vexing. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Mayhap  I  can  serve  you,  sir. 

SIR  THOMAS 

Yea,  you  can — by  keeping  your  slacken- twist  of  a 
son  at  home! 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

A  slacken- twist?    My  laddie? 

SIR  THOMAS 

Yea,  your  laddie — the  one  they  call  Will. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

What  harm  do  you  seek  to  fasten  on  him,  sir? 


8  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

SIR  THOMAS 

He  has  been  snaring  pheasants  in  my  park — caught 
in  the  act  with  a  bird  in  his  arms. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

My  boy  has  great  love  for  creatures  and  gets  to- 
gether the  maimed  and  ailing  that  he  may  nurse  them 
till  they  be  sound  again. 

SIR  THOMAS 
No  doubt  he  snares  that  he  may  cure. 

MISTRESS    SHAKESPEARE 

You  have  a  bitter  tone,  Sir  Thomas,  and  my  lad  is  a 
good  lad. 

SIR  THOMAS 

Good  lad,  or  bad  lad,  keep  him  away  from  Charle- 
cote.  I  was  passing  your  house  and  have  troubled 
myself  to  give  you  warning.  If  your  young  giddy- 
pate  so  much  as  take  a  pace  on  my  land,  or  look  at 
one  of  my  pheasants,  he  shall  be  punished  soundly. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

He  were  a  poor  spirited  lad  if  he  so  much  as  went 
within  breathing-space  o'  your  grounds.  My  heart  is 
built  in  the  shape  of  a  W.  I  believe  in  my  Will. 

SIR  THOMAS 

Believe,  an  it  suit  you,  but  mark  what  I  say,  and 
your  bold  bantling  as  well:  if  ever  he  cross  my  path  to 


PROLOGUE 


give  me  offense,  be  it  tomorrow  or  a  score  of  years 
hence,  I  shall  deal  him  a  double  dose  for  good  measure. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

You  are  a  liberal  apothecary  when  it  comes  to  dou- 
ble doses.  Good  e'en  to  you. 

SIR   THOMAS 

Woman, — 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Your  pardon,  sir,  I  have  a  rare  fondness  for  the  last 
word,  and  my  tongue  hangs  like  a  clapper  in  the  middle 
o'  my  mouth. 

SIR  THOMAS 

I  tell  you — 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Good  e'en  to  you,  sir.  Can  you  find  your  way  out? 
[She  holds  open  the  door  and  Sir  Thomas  scowls  as  he  goes  toward 


SIR  THOMAS 

I  have  this  to  say — 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Be  careful  o'  the  step.  That's  right.  [SiR  THOMAS 
disappears  and  she  opens  the  door  still  wider.]  Whew! 
Condemn  me  for  a  chatterpie  if  I  do  not  have  to  air 
the  place  of  the  man's  spirit.  There's  fell  need  for  the 
perfumer. 


10  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

BETSY 

[Who  has  been  all  eyes  for  Sir  Thomas  and  teeth  for  her  dainties.] 

Yond  be  a  brawlin',  naggin'  pick  thanks,  forever 
gettin'  things  all  of  a  pother.  [Crooking  her  fingers.} 
Wotna  I  like  to  set  my  ten  commandments  in  his  face? 
These  apples  and  pikelets  do  be  fine  and  toothsome, 
missus. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Help  yourself,  lassie. 

BETSY 

I  maut  be  takin'  a  bittock,  leastways  a  spot  o' 
pikelet  for  Dickums. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

What  can  be  keeping  my  laddie? 

[A  figure  runs  past  the  window  and  through  the  open  door.    It  is 
the  young  Shakespeare.    She  throws  her  arms  about  him.] 

Will! 

WILL 

Yes,  Mother,  here  am  I,  late  o'  the  clock  but  early 
o'  my  desire. 

[He  places  his  cloak,  which  he  has  carried  bundle-wise,  on  the 

settle.} 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

[Closing  the  door} 
What  mean  you,  laddie? 


PROLOGUE  ii 

WILL 

My  desire  bade  me  stay  till  I  could  turn  tailor  and 
take  fresh  measure  of  a  man  and,  having  measured 
him,  make  new  garments  to  fit  him. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Ay,  lad,  I  catch  your  meaning. 

WILL 
Good  even,  Betsy. 

BETSY 
Good  den,  Will. 

WILL 

The  man  whose  measure  I  would  take  would  find 
himself  wearing,  'stead  o'  trunks  large  enough  for 
Hercules,  pinnies  to  fit  Betsy's  Dickums. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

I  ken  the  man. 

WILL 
Yes,  Mother. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

He  was  here  and  mortal  inflamed  against  you, 
laddie. 

WELL 

Did  he  call  me  poacher? 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Ay,  that  he  did. 


12  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

WILL 
And  you — what  said  you,  Mother? 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

I  said  my  lad  wouldna  poach  and  Willie,  an  I  saw 
you  do  it  with  my  own  eyes,  I  wouldna  believe  it. 

WILL 
I  must  tell  you  what  befell  your  scapegrace  son. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Eat  your  bit  of  supper  at  the  same  time,  laddie,  and 
I'll  finish  some  lated  ironing.  I  canna  rest  till  my 
work  is  done,  even  if  it  does  make  me  iron  of  a  New 
Year's  Eve.  And  on  the  morrow  I  shall  start  the  first 
day  of  the  year  in  right  proper  fashion,  by  churning. 

[She  has  been  getting  ready  to  iron  and  Will  has  seated  himself.} 

WILL 

I  meant  to  come  straight  home  after  I  left  Charle- 
cote.  I  started  by  way  of  Tiddington  Road  and 
got  as  far  as  the  bridge,  but  was  so  brimmed  with 
heated  thoughts  I  crossed  the  Meadows  and  went  up 
by  the  Brake  to  Luddington. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

And  did  the  walk  cool  your  hot  thoughts? 

WILL 
Ay,  when  I  came  back  as  far  as  the  footbridge  by  the 


PROLOGUE  13 

Mill  and  saw  Trinity  spire  against  the  sky  like  an  arch- 
angel's finger,  I  felt  cool  and  soft  in  my  thoughts  and 
ready  to  come  home  to  you. 


MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

The  home  nest's  the  place  for  bruised  wings.  But 
tell  us  o'  the  happenings  at  Charlecote. 

WILL 

I  had  heard  it  said  the  Queen  and  her  ladies  had 
come  for  a  peaceful  New  Year's  even,  and  had  ridden 
forth  for  an  airing.  You  know  how  I  relished  the 
sight  of  our  Queen  at  Kenilworth  last  July,  so  I 
wandered  up  Charlecote  way,  hoping  for  a  glimpse 
of  her. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

None  could  blame  you  for  that. 

BETSY 

I  war  a-motherin'  Dickums  or  I  maut  'a  gone. 

WILL 

Whilst  I  dallied,  pretending  the  hedge  was  white 
with  bloom  instead  of  snow,  a  pheasant  half  hopped, 
half  flew  into  the  path  before  me,  one  wing  broken 
and  hanging  pitifully. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

The  poor  creature! 


14  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

BETSY 

They  say  pheasants  do  be  mortal  fine  eatin'. 

WILL 

I  reached  for  the  bird  to  ease  its  sufferings;  but, 
thinking  I  meant  mischief,  it  led  me  a  spanking  chase. 
Before  I  was  aware,  we  were  in  the  Charlecote  grounds 
and  I  had  just  seized  the  bird  when  the  keeper  clapped 
his  hand  on  my  shoulder. 

BETSY 
My  faith!  these  be  some  doin's. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

What  did  he  to  you,  laddie? 

WILL 

He  believed  not  a  word  of  my  story  and  hauled  me, 
pheasant  and  all,  to  the  high  road.  We  had  no  more 
than  gained  it  before  who  should  come  riding  up  but — 

BETSY 
The  Queen!    Lawk-a-dingin's,  the  Queen  herseP! 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Sir  Thomas  Lucy! 

WILL 

Ay,  both,  and  a  small  party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen. 
They  drew  rein  and  Sir  Thomas  inquired  what  the 
pother  was  about. 


PROLOGUE  15 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

My  poor  lad ! 

WILL 

He  has  but  a  handful  of  pheasants  and  sets  such 
store  by  them  he  was  stirred  to  a  rage  at  the  keeper's 
tale.  The  keeper  thrust  his  hand  into  my  doublet  and 
drew  out  a  cord.  Then  of  a  certainty  they  believed  I 
had  been  snaring. 


WILL 
I  had  it  for  top-spinning. 

BETSY 

Whut  did  they  to  you?    An'  whut  did  you  to  they? 

WILL 

When  I  saw  they  had  writ  poacher  over  me  in  tall 
letters  I  asked  justice  of  the  Queen. 

BETSY 
God  mend  me!    Spoke  ye  to  the  Queen? 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

What  said  you,  lad? 


1 6  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

WILL 
[Laughing.] 

'Twas  as  good  as  the  play.  I  said:  "Your  Majesty, 
were  I  poacher  and  you  near  'tis  not  pheasants  I 
should  pilfer."  "And  why  so,  youngling?"  "Marry, 
I  should  try  to  poach  a  hare  and  not  a  pheasant." 
"Why  a  hare?"  asked  the  Queen.  "I  should  try  to 
poach  a  hair  from  your  Majesty's  golden  fleece," 
quoth  I.  "Oho,  my  March-chick,  you  are  a  Jason 
indeed!"  she  said,  and  fell  to  laughing. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

My  boy!  how  could  you — to  the  Queen! 

WILL 

A  queen  at  best  is  but  flesh  and  blood,  and  wit  may 
be  royal  wherever  'tis  found. 

BETSY 

On,  on,  Will!  whut  more  did  ye? 

WILL 

Well,  the  upshot  was  she  asked  Sir  Thomas  to 
forgive  this  offense  and  let  me  have  the  bird  to  coax 
back  to  strength. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Said  she  those  words :  forgive  this  ofense? 

WILL 
Oh,  Mother,  there's  the  rub!    She  gave  me  my  re- 


PROLOGUE  17 

lease  yet  believes  me  guilty.    Were  she  the  Queen  I 
held  her  she  would  have  known  I  spoke  true. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Ay,  Willie. 

BETSY 

Whut  'came  o'  the  bird? 

WILL 
'Tis  here. 

[He  goes  to  the  settle  and  opens  his  cloak,  displaying  the  pheasant.] 
MISTRESS    SHAKESPEARE 

Put  the  poor  thing  in  this. 

[She  hands  him  the  basket  from  the  wall.    WILL  puts  the  pheasant 
in  the  basket  and  places  it  on  the  hearth.} 

BETSY 

It  war  a  fearsome  adventure.  It  mun  be  grand  to 
go  adventurin'.  Things  be  mortal  dull  most  whiles. 

WILL 

What  have  I  told  you,  Betsy?  Rouse  your  fancy 
and  adventures  will  hap  as  thick  as  bees  around  the 
honey-pot. 

BETSY 

I  caunt  see  whut  use  fancy  be  to  a  body. 

WILL 
It  makes  you  see  stories  in  men's  eyes. 


i8  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

BETSY 

That's  brave  to  say,  but  whut  'ud  a  body's  fancy  do 
for  a  dilling  like  Dickums? 

WILL 

An  you  tire  thinking  on  him  as  a  babe,  think  on  him 
as  a  man. 

BETSY 

A  man!  Dickums!  That'd  take  more  nor  fancy — 
that'd  take  a  prophet. 

WILL 

Not  a  prophet  but  a  play-actor.  Truly  the  least 
has  his  part  to  play.  Dickums  is  a  mewling  babe  in 
your  arms,  yet  will  he  one  day  start  for  school,  filling 
himself  with  Latin  roots  heavy  for  his  digestion. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Then,  ere  you  know,  will  he  be  courting  the  lasses 
and,  though  their  locks  be  coarse  and  straight  as  old 
Roan's  tail,  making  rhymed  nonsense  to  their  silken 
tresses. 

WILL 

Next  will  he  be  man,  slaying  and  slashing  with 
reckless  blade. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Yea — and  so  will  he  act  his  part,  on  through  middle 
age,  and  old  age,  and  the  old-old  age  that  joins  itself 
to  babyhood. 


PROLOGUE  19 


WILL 


That  makes  a  circle  o'  life — a  huge  teething-ring  on 
which  men  cut  their  wisdom.  Ay,  Betsy,  your  baby 
brother  is  become  the  hero  of  a  tale. 


BETSY 


My  wee  lamb?  Ho,  lamb!  oot  like  to  be  the  hero 
of  a  tale? 

WILL 

Mock  me  not,  Betsy.  I  shall  be  a  weaver  one  o' 
these  days  and  make  whatsoever  pattern  I  choose. 
I  could  make  you  into  a  merry  shepherdess,  or  I  could 
even  make  you  into  a  princess, — an  I  would. 

BETSY 

Princess!  me! 

WILL 
Ay,  you.    Mayhap  I  shall. 

BETSY 

I  wotna  care  whut  you  made  o'  me,  Will,  so  I  be 
lass  wi'  time  now  an'  then  for  play. 

[There  is  a  rap  on  the  window-pane.     The  face  of  a  pedlar  ap- 
pears.} 

WILL 

'Tis  the  pedlar  I  saw  on  Clop  ton  Bridge, — dumb  as 
a  fish  in  speech  and  wits,  poor  fellow. 


20  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

MISTRESS    SHAKESPEARE 

He  canna  talk,  say  you?    Bid  him  come  in. 

WILL 

[Opening  the  door.] 
Come  you  in  and  get  a  taste  o'  the  nre. 

[The  pedlar  enters  with  his  tray  of  trifles  and  goes  to  the  hearth. 
He  is  brute-like  in  his  stolidity.} 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Sit  you  down,  good  man.  [He  shakes  his  head] 
Well,  if  you  canna,  let  us  see  if  you've  aught  we  would 
buy.  [She  and  WILL  look  at  the  tray.]  I'd  like  to  get 
a  bit  o'  something  for  your  father,  laddie. 

WILL 

There  seems  naught  for  men  but  masks,  and  father's 
face  is  too  good  to  cover. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

I'll  get  him  a  kerchief.  That's  rare  enough  to  be  a 
treat.  How  much,  Pedlar? 

[He  makes  signs  with  his  fingers.] 
WILL 

Here  is  a  string  o'  blue  beads — a  young  maid's 
rosary.  Put  it  'round  your  neck,  Betsy.  [To  his 
mother.}  I'll  buy  it  out  of  the  New  Year's  coin 
father  gave  me. 

[PEDLAR  again  tells  the  price  by  signs] 


PROLOGUE  21 

BETSY 

For  me?  0  Will!  Thanky!  I  be  mortal  glad  you 
dinna  get  me  needles,  or  aught  that's  useful.  An' 
I  be  glad  too,  I  'aven't  a  Adam's  apple,  or  it  wotna  fit. 
Doant  I  look  brave? 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

That  you  do.    I'll  get  the  money  for  you,  Pedlar. 

[Exit  MISTRESS  SHAKESPEARE  door,  left.  WILL  goes  toward 
rear  to  count  out  the  pedlar's  pay.  BETSY  is  engaged  with 
her  new  treasure.  The  pedlar  empties  the  remainder  of  the 
apples  and  cakes  into  a  bag  at  his  side.  Enter  MISTRESS 
SHAKESPEARE.] 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 
[As  she  and  WILL  pay  the  pedlar.] 

Eat  some  cakes  afore  you  go  out  into  the  night. 
[Sees  the  empty  dish]  What's  happed  to  the  cakes? 
They  were  in  the  dish  but  a  moment  since!  There 
may  be  more. 

[Goes  to  table  at  rear.  WILL  stirs  the  fire.  The  pedlar,  fearing 
detection,  empties  the  cakes  back  into  the  dish.  WILL  turns.] 

WILL 

Mother,  the  cakes  have  leaped  into  the  dish.  They 
must  be  full  o'  yeast  to  rise  and  fall  so  lightly.  [Smil- 
ing.] Help  yourself,  Pedlar.  As  to  apples,  I'd  offer 
you  some  but  more  might  give  you  a  touch  o'  the 
colic. 

[PEDLAR  goes  to  the  door.] 


22  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Come  you  again,  Master  Pedlar. 

[He  nods  sullenly.    Exit  PEDLAR.] 

BETSY 

There  be  a  man  you  couldna  find  any  stories  in. 
He  be  cold  an'  muddy  as  a  eel. 

WILL 

O  Betsy!  will  you  never  see?  I  could  light  his  eyes, 
loose  his  tongue — yea,  wake  him  from  the  dead.  "Pis 
the  miracle  that  tugs  at  me  night  and  day. 

BETSY 

I'd  see  if  I  could,  Will.  Anyways  I  know  beads 
when  I  see  'em.  We  mun  go  now.  Dickums  relished 
the  pikelets  an'  apples  right  well,  an'  me  too,  missus. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Wrap  you  up,  lassie. 

BETSY 

My  beads'll  keep  me  warm. 

WILL 
I'll  see  you  home. 

BETSY 

Nay,  Will.  I  be  goin'  to  stop  at  the  Pringles  'round 
the  corner.  God  buy  ye. 


PROLOGUE  23 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Come  again,  Betsy  girl,  you  and  your  Dickums. 

[Exeunt  BETSY  and  DICKUMS.  MISTRESS  SHAKESPEARE  and 
WILL  put  away  the  ironing  and  carry  the  two  tables  from  the 
front  to  the  rear,  left.] 

WILL 

Mother,  instead  of  going  a-merry-making  tonight 
with  the  lads,  I  would  ask  something  else  of  you. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Speak  out,  laddie.    When  have  I  found  it  in  my 
heart  to  deny  you  aught  I  could  grant? 

WILL 
Let  me  for  this  night  stay  up  as  long  as  I  would. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

And  not  go  out  with  the  lads  on  New  Year's  Eve? 
Marry  come  up!  'tis  a  right  droll  wish. 

WILL 

You  know  my  Christmas  book  that  Sir  Thomas 
gave  me  at  Grammar  School. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Thomas  Hunt,  God  speed  him! — not  Thomas  Lucy. 

WILL 
Methinks  Hunt  is  short  for  goodness  and  Lucy 


24  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

short  for  Lucifer.  Besides,  Thomas  Hunt  doth  spell 
Thomas  with  one  S  and  Thomas  Lucy  perforce  must 
use  two! 


MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 


Fie,  lad !  see  that  your  wrongs  make  not  your  tongue 
over  sharp.  But  what  o'  the  book  your  master  gave 
you? 


WILL 


I  would  sit  up  this  night,  burn  as  many  candles  as  I 
choose,  and  read  to  my  soul's  contentment. 


MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

I  see  no  reason  why  you  shouldna.  Your  father  is 
away,  Gilbert  and  Joan  are  at  our  cousin's  till  the 
morrow,  and  the  wee  Anna  and  Richard  sound  asleep 
this  long  while.  Stay  you  up,  an  you  wish.  Help  me 
with  the  churn,  laddie.  [They  bring  it  forward  and 
place  it  at  center,  left.]  Now  is  it  ready  for  the  morrow. 
'Tis  fine  sport  coaxing  cream  to  change  itself  to  butter. 

WILL 

[Peeping  inside  the  churn.] 

'Twould  be  a  bonnie  hiding  place  for  merry-minded 
goblins!  Oh,  Mother,  I  shall  have  a  brave  evening  with 
the  fairies.  Ovid  has  made  me  friends  with  Titania, 
and  the  book  I  would  read  is  full  o'  the  doings  o'  the 
magic  people.  There  is  a  king  called  Oberon  and 
tonight  all  of  us  will  gallop  away  on  a  slant  o'  silvery 
moonshine. 


PROLOGUE  25 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Bless  you,  my  lad.  Would  I  could  join  you  in  your 
fairy  caperings. 

WILL 

See  the  kettle!  Tis  a  cauldron  to  breed  witches 
and  their  tailless  kind. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Your  mind  is  a  busy  cauldron  but  it  breeds  more 
than  witches. 

WILL 

[Going  to  the  window.] 

We  shall  have  a  moon  tonight.  There  is  something 
about  moonlight  that  searches  out  every  nook  and 
corner  of  me  and  drenches  me  with  music.  Some 
day — oh,  Mother,  I  have  a  desire  so  tall  that  it  tucks 
its  head  into  the  very  lap  of  heaven. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

I  know  it,  laddie.  You  are  all  a-shimmer  with 
lovely  fancies.  God  shield  you,  my  dearest. 

[She  kisses  WILL  and  leaves  through  door,  left.  WILL  takes  the 
book  out  of  his  doublet  and  with  a  sigh  of  joyousness  throws 
himself  before  the  fire,  a  candle  near  his  open  page.} 


END  OF  PROLOGUE 


ACT  I 

The  curtain  reascends  immediately  on  a  darkened  stage. 
RUSTICS  are  heard  singing  in  the  distance,  their 
song  growing  clearer  as  they  pass  the  Shakespeare 
home,  and  again  becoming  fainter  as  they  move  on. 
A  half-moon  rises  and  shines  through  the  window. 

RUSTICS 

[Singing.] 

Here  we  come  on  New  Year's  Day 
A-singing,  a-singing, 
Hearts  and  songs  and  steeple-bells 
A-ringing,  a-ringing. 
Come  ye  out  and  fill  ye  up, 
Take  a  whiff  and  drink  a  sup — 
'Tis  the  steaming  wassail  cup 
We're  bringing,  we're  bringing. 

We  would  give  to  each  of  you 

A  warning,  a  warning: 

Let  no  spirit  go  today 

Forlorning,  forlorning. 

Thank  your  God  for  what  you've  got, 

Thank  your  God  for  what  you've  not, 

Thank  Him  for  the  wassail  pot 

On  New  Year's  in  the  morning. 

[The  clock  strikes  twelve.     The  chimes  of  Stratford  ring  out. 
Tiny  lights  flash,  coming  from  FIREFLY  hiding  near  the  fir e- 
26 


ACT  I  27 

place,  COWSLIP  under  the  table,  WASP  behind  the  churn,  and 
PEPPER-CORN  in  the  shadow  of  a  chair.  The  lid  of  the 
settle  is  raised  and  a  fifth  light  appears^ 

ROBIN 

[Within  the  settle.] 
Whist! 

[In  a  twinkling  he  and  his  PUCKS  fly  out  of  hiding.  ROBIN, 
standing  in  the  path  of  the  moon's  rays,  holds  aloft  his  spark 
of  light.] 

Shine,  ye  servitors  of  light! 
Drive  away  the  bat  of  night. 

[The  gloom  lifts  and  they  join  hands  and  caper  in  a  dance,  with 
leap-frog  pranks  and  elfin  riot.] 

ROBIN 

Attention,  sprites! 

[The  PUCKS  line  up.] 

PUCKS 

Ready! 

ROBIN 

There  is  heavy  business  on  foot. 

PUCKS 

[Hopping,  each  with  hand  on  foot.] 
Ouch! 

ROBIN 

What  ails  you? 


28  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

COWSLIP 

Please,  Robin,  as  you  said  there  is  heavy  business  on 
foot,  my  toes  did  hurt  as  if  a  cask  had  rolled  upon 
them. 

WASP 

My  toes  ache  not,  but  my  instep  feels  as  'twere  on 
fire. 

FIREFLY 

"Tis  not  my  toes  nor  my  instep,  oh  Robin-come- 
bobbin',  'tis  my  heel.  I  vow  'tis  rosy  with  pain. 

PEPPER-CORN 

You  are  lucky  'tis  but  your  instep,  toe  and  heel.  I 
have  a  monstrous  prickling  from  ankle  to  thigh  bone. 

My  toes! 


My  instep! 

My  heel! 

My  ankle  and  thigh  bone!. 


PUCKS  [in  rapid 
succession] 


ROBIN 
[Disdainfully.] 

An  you  had  your  deserts  your  merrybones  would 
be  snapped  like  that!  Let  me  know  when  you  are 
ready  to  hearken  to  reason. 

PUCKS 

[Lining  up  sedately.] 
We  are  ready. 


ACT  I  29 

ROBIN 

I  am  come  on  a  quest  for  Oberon.  Our  King  and 
Queen  have  had  a  monstrous  falling  out. 

COWSLIP 

Already  have  the  winds  blown  the  rumor  to  our 
ears. 

[The  PUCKS  shake  their  heads  gravely,] 

WASP 
Has  it  not  to  do  with  a  babe? 

FIREFLY 

A  little  Indian  boy? 

ROBIN 

Yea;  the  son  of  Titania's  friend  who  dwelt  in 
the  land  of  lotus  blossoms  and  savory  sandalwood. 
When  she,  being  mortal,  died,  Titania  brought  home 
the  babe. 

PEPPER-CORN 
'Tis  said  he  is  bronze  of  color. 

COWSLIP 
And  that  our  Queen  dotes  on  him. 

ROBIN 

Oberon  wishes  the  changeling  for  his  own — to  be 
reared  as  his  henchman.  The  Queen  refuses  to  yield 
him  the  child,  which  doth  set  the  King  at  loggerheads 
with  her. 


30  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

PEPPER-CORN 

Marry  come  up!  'tis  a  pretty  pother. 

FIREFLY 

What  have  you  to  do  with  their  tempest,  Robin? 

ROBIN 

I  am  to  get  the  babe  and  give  him  into  Oberon's 
keeping. 

PUCKS 
How? 

ROBIN 

The  Witch  of  Wimble  is  to  place  him  in  my  hands. 

WASP 
The  Witch  of  Wimble  is  a  brewer  of  mischief. 

COWSLIP 

And  likes  to  stick  her  long  gaunt  finger  into  other 
people's  pies. 

PEPPER-CORN 

She  drives  a  hard  bargain. 

FIREFLY 

How  came  she  to  do  aught  for  you? 

ROBIN 
Beshrew  me,  if  I  be  not  a  wondrous  sharp  fellow! 


ACT  I  31 

I  am  to  give  the  Wimble  Witch  a  paring  from  the 
Duchess  of  Bannister's  finger  nail  in  exchange  for  the 
Indian  boy.  "Pis  the  hour  for  the  signal. 

[He  goes  to  the  fireplace  and  raps  on  the  pot  three  times.] 

Wimble  Witch, 
Swim  the  ditch ! 
Wade  the  mire! 
Brave  the  fire! 
Break  the  bars! 
Leap  the  stars! 
Which  and  whither, 
Blood  and  blither, 
What  I  wait  for 
Bring  me  hither! 

[There  is  a  puff  of  red  smoke  and  the  WIMBLE  WITCH  emerges, 
a  baby  hanging  over  her  shoulder.  She  wears  a  scraggly 
beard  and  has  a  long  right  forefinger.] 

WITCH 
Hoot!  hoot!  thou  owl  of  night. 

[Sound  of  winds.] 
Dim  the  moon  in  thy  flight. 

[The  light  lowers.] 

Bah!  I  like  not  such  giddy  brightness.    Well,  well, 
Robin  Goodfellow!  have  you  brought  me  the  paring? 

ROBIN 

Ay,  Goody. 

WITCH 

Give  it  hither. 


32  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

ROBIN 

Give  me  first  the  babe. 

WITCH 
Not  till  I  lay  hands  on  your  paring. 

ROBIN 
I  must  have  the  babe  before  I  give  it  you. 

WITCH 
Two  rogues  drive  a  slow  bargain. 

ROBIN 

Speak  for  yourself,  an  you  will,  but  I  am  no  rogue. 
My  name  belies  it — Goodfellow. 

WITCH 

Ay,  but  what  o'  your  name  Robin?  Is  not  he  that's 
robbin'  a  robber? 

COWSLIP 

Give  me  the  babe,  Goody,  and,  Robin,  give  you  the 
paring  to  Firefly.  When  I  say  the  word,  we  shall  see 
that  each  gets  his  own. 

ROBIN 

Are  you  of  a  mind  to  it? 

WITCH 
Yea,  'twere  best. 

[She  tosses  the  baby  to  COWSLIP  and  ROBIN  gives  the  paring  to 
FIREFLY.] 


ACT  I  33 

COWSLIP 

Humblety,  bumblety,  huggermaree, 
Tickety,  clockety,  one,  two,  three. 

[ROBIN  joyously  receives  the  baby,  handling  it  awkwardly,  and 
the  WITCH  clutches  the  paring.] 

WITCH 

At  last!  Now  will  the  upstart  Duchess  do  my 
bidding. 

ROBIN 

What's  to  do  with  'em? 

WITCH 
With  what? 

ROBIN 

Babes. 

PUCKS 
Yea,  what's  to  do  with  'em? 

WITCH 

Milk!  Milk!  Milk!  Plenty  o'  milk!  Fill  'em  full  o' 
milk.  But  mind  your  own  brat.  I  have  my  precious 
paring. 

[The  WITCH  dances,  then  disappears  within  the  fireplace.} 
ROBIN 

Good  riddance!  Let  us  see  our  noses;  this  witch- 
light  pleases  not  my  fancy. 


34  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

Shine,  ye  servitors  of  light! 
Drive  away  the  bat  of  night. 

[The  room  lightens.     The  baby  cries.] 
Deuce  take  it!  'tis  a  nuisance. 

FIREFLY 

Milk!  plenty  o'  milk! 

WASP 
The  Wimble  Witch  said  so ! 

PEPPER-CORN 

Ay,  but  where's  it  to  be  found? 

COWSLIP 
The  churn! 

ROBIN 

Marry,  you  are  right.  [He  tosses  the  crying  baby  into 
the  churn,  upright.  There  is  a  lusty  yell.]  Verily,  'tis 
a  milk-curdling  sound!  [Another  cry,  then  silence.] 
Yea,  drink  your  fill,  inchling!  Lap  up  the  cream  with 
your  little  pink  tongue.  Who  says  it  is  difficult  to 
care  for  babes?  Mayhap  bronze-face  will  now  turn 
whey-face. 

COWSLIP 
Hist!  a  step. 

[They  disappear  within  their  former  retreats.  There  is  a  knock. 
Enter  WILL,  left,  dressed  as  in  the  Prologue.  He  goes  to 
door,  rear,  and  opens  it.  The  threshold  is  empty  for  a  mo- 
ment until  BETSY,  in  the  costume  of  a  picture-book  shepherd- 
ess, jumps  out  of  hiding.] 


ACT  I  35 

BETSY 

[Suddenly,  as  she  comes  into  view.] 
Boo! 

[She  enters  smiling.] 

WILL 

Tis  plain  to  see,  Betsy,  you  are  not  too  timid  to  say 
Boo!  to  a  goose. 

BETSY 

It  is  not  geese  I  fear — 'tis  wolves.  But  my  flock  is 
safe  sheltered,  even  to  the  blackest  sheep  o'  them  all. 

WILL 

Had  I  your  crook,  faith,  I'd  use  it  to  drive  into  the 
fold  the  solemn-souled  folk  o'  Stratford. 

BETSY 

They  who  count  it  a  sin  to  smile — like  Sullen  Jim, 
the  tinker. 

WILL 

Ay,  his  face  is  so  long  his  chin  is  red  and  calloused 
where  he  hath  tripped  on  it.  But  smile  or  scowl,  'tis  a 
work-a-day  world  and  I  must  try  my  hand  at  churn- 
ing— yet  who  would  say  that  changing  rivers  o'  cream 
into  mountains  o'  butter  be  not  magic?  [He  tries  to 
work  the  dasher.]  What  ails  it? 

BETSY 

Here!  get  you  aside.  'Tis  a  maid's  work,  not  a 
man's. 

[The  dasher  will  not  work,  and  try  as  she  will,  BETSY  cannot 
churn.] 


36  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

A  plague  on  the  thing!     'Tis  bootless  churning. 
[There  is  a  loud  wail.]     It  seems  to  come  from  here. 

[Points  in  alarm  at  the  churn.] 
WILL 

I'll  look  within. 

BETSY 

Are  you  not  fearful? 

WILL 

'Tis  a  maid's  part  to  churn;  a  man's  not  to  be  afraid. 
[Goes  to  the  churn  and  pulls  out  the  baby.] 

BETSY 

A  babe! 

WILL 

Faith,  a  very  milksop! 
[ROBIN  and  the  PUCKS  leap  out  and  circle  around  the  children.] 

WILL 
[Good  humoredly.] 

You  are  bedlam  let  loose!    Cease  your  hubbub  and 
tell  us  who  you  are. 


Robin  Goodfellow. 

Cowslip. 

Firefly. 

Wasp. 

Pepper-corn. 


ROBIN  and  the  PUCKS  {in  rapid 
succession,  bowing.} 


ACT  I  37 

WILL 

Well  met,  good  people.  [ROBIN  stands  on  his  head.] 
You  silly  goblin — standing  on  your  north  when  you 
should  be  walking  on  your  south !  Pray  tell  us  how  a 
babe  and  butter  got  so  strangely  mixed. 

ROBIN 

[Scrambling  to  his  feet  and  seizing  the  baby.} 
He  is  my  charge. 

BETSY 

For  shame !  handling  him  like  a  meal  sack.  You  are 
as  clumsy  as  if  you  came  from  Bergamo.  [She  stamps 
her  foot.]  Give  him  to  me,  you  saucy  manikin.  [She 
takes  the  baby  and  cuddles  him.]  My  poor  lamb!  my 
wee  nestling! 

WILL 
How  came  you  by  the  babe? 

ROBIN 

I  am  its  guardian.  The  Wimble  Witch  seized  him 
from  Titania  and  placed  him  in  my  hands.  I  am  to 
give  him  into  the  keeping  of  Oberon  who  fancies  him 
for  his  own. 

BETSY 
Is  not  Titania  his  mother? 

ROBIN 
His  foster-mother. 


38  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 


BETSY 


Then  why  does  she  yield  him,  even  to  Oberon,  her 
lord? 

ROBIN 

Pouf!    She  has  naught  to  say  about  it.    The  Witch 
and  I  saw  to  that. 

[The  PUCKS  play  leap-frog  and  cut  up  antics.] 

WILL 

[Aside  to  BETSY.] 
That  wight  has  stolen  the  babe. 

BETSY 
Poor  Titania! 

WILL 
Let  us  restore  the  boy  to  her. 

BETSY 

A  right  sound  thought.    We'll  do  it.    But  how  get 

away? 

WILL 

Send  Robin  and  his  crew  on  an  errand.   Ho,  Robin! 
ho,  Pucks! 

ROBIN  and  the  PUCKS 
Ay,  ay,  sir. 

WILL 

How  do  you  expect  this  babe  to  drink  milk  and  get 


ACT  I  39 

his  rightful  nourishment  unless  he  take  it  from  a 
bottle? 

ROBIN 

[Scratching  his  head.] 
Do  babes  take  milk  out  o'  bottles? 

BETSY 
Of  course,  addlepate. 

WILL 

A  fine  guardian  you,  to  give  milk  to  your  babe  by 
throwing  him  into  a  churn ! 

ROBIN 

It  has  a  foolish  sound.  Marry,  sir,  what  mortal 
fools  we  fairies  be! 

WILL 

Hie  you  hence  and  bring  back  a  nursing  bottle,  and 
let  not  Time,  the  old  nag,  go  limping  with  you.  Ride 
him  hard  and  dig  in  the  spurs. 

ROBIN 

Up,  boys,  away!  But  where,  good  sir,  may  the 
magic  bottles  be  found? 

WILL 
At  the  apothecary's,  slim-wit! 

COWSLIP 

His  shop  is  but  two  hoots  and  a  hurdle  from  the 
Golden  Lion. 


40  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

ROBIN 
Forward. 

[Exeunt  PUCKS.] 

WILL 

Now  must  we  ride  Time  harder  than  I  did  counsel 
Robin. 

BETSY 
Whither? 

WILL 

West  to  Sanctus,  thence  south  to  the  Brake. 

BETSY 

Ay,  a  Fairy  Queen  should  not  be  far  from  the 
Brake. 

WILL 

Should  I  not  have  a  staff,  or  wherewithal  to  protect 
you  and  the  babe? 

BETSY 
That  you  should,  Will. 

WILL 

I  would  I  had  a  sword.    I  know! — the  huge  knife 
with  which  mother  cuts  the  loaf. 

[Runs  to  table  and  gives  a  cry.] 

BETSY 
What  is  it,  Will? 


ACT  I  41 

WILL 

Behold  the  changeling!  The  bread  knife  has 
turned  sword.  [He  displays  the  sword,  then  proudly 
claps  it  to  his  side.  He  feels  his  chin.]  Had  I  but  a 
beard!  But  come!  lean  seconds  make  fat  minutes. 

[Exeunt  WILL,  BETSY  and  the  INDIAN  BOY,  leaving  the  door  open. 
There  is  a  puff  of  red  smoke  in  the  fireplace  and  the  WITCH 
comes  forth.] 

WITCH 

West  to  Sanctus,  thence  south  to  the  Brake.  Ha! 
'tis  time  the  Wimble  Witch  stirred  puddings  with  her 
finger.  [Stirs  with  her  forefinger]  I'll  have  my  way 
in  this  or  may  I  lose  my  bonnie  beard.  [Rush  of 
winds.]  Ay,  there  be  forces  still  at  work  for  the 
Witch  of  Wimble. 

[Exit  WITCH  through  fireplace.] 

FILCH 

[The  PEDLAR,  of  stage.] 

Come  buy  of  Filch, 
Come  buy  of  Filch, 
Come  buy  of  Filch,  the  Pedlar. 

[He  appears  in  the  open  doorway,  the  dumb  and  stolid  pedlar  of 
the  Prologue  awakened  to  a  rollicking  alertness.  A  large, 
open  sack  is  strapped  to  his  shoulder.  He  looks  around  the 
room  with  a  merry  glance,  goes  to  the  table,  left,  slyly  takes 
up  a  candlestick,  starts  to  put  it  into  his  sack,  then  with  a 
shrug  replaces  it  on  the  table.  He  goes  off  calling  lustily.} 

Come  buy  of  Filch, 
Come  buy  of  Filch, 


42  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

Come  buy  of  Filch,  the  Pedlar. 

He'll  drain  your  cup, 

And  snap  you  up, 

And  prove  a  merry  meddler. 

[There  is  a  far-off  tinkling  of  bells.    It  grows  nearer.    TITANIA 
and  her  train  enter  eagerly  and  peer  in  and  out  of  corners.} 

TITANIA 

0  Chalice!  Cadence!  Dulcet!  Melody!    He  is  not 
here — of  a  truth  he  is  not  here! 

CHALICE 
Are  you  sure  the  Bullfinch  sent  you  hither? 

TITANIA 

Yea,  Chalice,  he  said  here,  in  this  very  room.  And 
not  alone  the  Bullfinch  saw  Robin  with  the  babe,  but 
the  Horned  Owl  who  lives  in  the  Brake.  They  peeped 
through  the  window. 

MELODY 

May  Melody  turn  Discord  if  Robin  be  not  made  to 
smart  for  crossing  you. 

CADENCE 

And  such  a  darling  babe,  with  his  pretty  bronze 
skin  and  his  big  brown  eyes! 

TITANIA 

1  think — yea,  I  am  certain — my  heart  is  breaking. 


ACT  I  43 

FAIRIES 

Heart! 

TITANIA 

Said  I  heart?    Well,  verily,  by  the  threefold  Diana, 
I  believe  I  am  growing  one. 

CHALICE 
Why  think  you  that? 

TITANIA 

[Folding  her  hands  over  her  heart.} 
I  have  a  sad  feeling  here. 

MELODY 
'Tis  a  sorry  business. 

TITANIA 

[Reaching  out  her  hands  on  both  sides.] 

And  as  if  the  world  were  a  vastly  bigger  place  than 
it  is,  and  I  were  lost  in  it. 

DULCET 
I've  never  felt  like  that — have  you,  Cadence? 

CADENCE 

Nay,  I  have  never  felt  sad  or  lost. 

TITANIA 

O,  Dulcet,  mine  eyes! 


44  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

DULCET 

Your  eyes,  sweet  mistress? 

TITANIA 

Something  like  dew  escapeth  them. 

DULCET 

[Drying  them  with  a  bit  of  her  frock.] 
I've  not  seen  the  like  before. 

CHALICE 

You  forget.  When  the  little  gooseherd  was  for- 
saken by  her  lover,  do  you  not  remember  how  dew 
ran  down  her  cheeks? 

DULCET 
And  sparkled  in  the  moonlight? 

TITANIA 

I  remember.    'Twas  said  those  were  tears. 

CADENCE 

Then  that  dew — oh,  that  dew  from  your  eyes  is — 

TITANIA 

Tears.  These  must  be  tears.  Now  do  I  know  I  am 
growing  a  heart. 

MELODY 
What  can  a  fairy  do  with  a  heart? 


ACT  I  45 

TITANIA 

'Twould  be  monstrous  useful  with  a  babe. 
[Enter  ROBIN  and  his  fellows  lugging  a  large  stone  jug.] 

ROBIN 

Here  is  the  nursing  bottle.    Filch,  the  Pedlar,  from 
whom  I  bought  it,  says  'tis  the  only  one  in  town. 

TITANIA 
Robin! 

[ROBIN  and  the  PUCKS  bow  and  scrape.] 
ROBIN 

Celestial  Titania — 

TITANIA 


Where  is  my  babe? 


ROBIN 


Is  he  not  here?    Then  that's  what  I  would  know, — 
where  is  he? 

TITANIA 

Know  you  not,  of  a  truth? 

ROBIN 

Nay,  he  was  here  when  I  started  for  the  bottle. 
Do  I  speak  true? 

PUCKS 
He  speaks  true. 


46  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

ROBIN 

Mayhap  he  is  in  the  churn.  [Looks  within]  Butter ! 
'Tis  full  of  butter!  The  babe  hath  churned  it  by  his 
frisky  gambolings. 

TITANIA 

What  shall  we  do?  O  Robin!  I  could  find  it  in  this 
new  heart  to  forgive  you,  would  you  do  your  best  to 
find  him.  I  would  rather  Oberon  had  him  than  he 
should  be  lost. 

ROBIN 

'Tis  a  big  world. 

CADENCE 

For  a  new  babe. 

CHALICE 

Ay,  to  be  lost  in. 

ROBIN 
We  will  seek  him  high  and  low — will  we  not,  lads? 

PUCKS 
Ay,  ay,  sir! 

TITANIA 

And  we  will  search  the  green  earth  till  we  wear  it 
brown  with  our  footfalls  ere  we  forsake  our  quest — 
is  it  not  so,  Fairies? 

FAIRIES 

As  true  as  true. 


ACT  I  47 

ROBIN 

Which  way  shall  we  go? 

TITANIA 

I  have  a  fancy  to  seek  him  in  the  Brake.  Let  us 
first  to  the  south,  then  west  to  the  Brake. 

WITCH 

[Appearing  in  a  puff  of  red  smoke  from  the  fireplace.] 

Nay,  you  are  wrong.  I  would  do  you  a  service. 
The  lad,  Will,  and  the  wench  have  taken  the  babe  and 
plan  to  sell  him  to  a  childless  prince. 

TITANIA 
Tailless  rat!    How  dare  I  believe  you? 

WITCH 
By  my  bonnie  beard,  I  speak  true. 

TITANIA 
Then  which  way  went  they? 

WITCH 
I  heard  them  say,  "First  east,  then  north." 

TITANIA 

My  thanks,  dame.    Fairies,  hence! 

ROBIN 

Forward,  lads! 


48  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

TITANIA 
[As  her  Fairies  and  the  PUCKS  stream  out  into  the  night.] 

Haste!  ye  eager,  twinkling  feet. 
Be  ye  valiant,  be  ye  fleet; 
Be  ye  harbingers  of  joy; 
Bring  ye  tokens  of  my  boy. 

[Exit  TITANIA.] 
WITCH 

Hoot!  hoot!  thou  owl  of  night. 

[Sound  of  winds.] 
Dim  the  moon  in  thy  flight. 
[The  light  lessens.] 

Ay,  silly-pates,  look  your  fill.    Who  says  this  finger 
has  not  the  gift  of  stirring  other  people's  puddings? 
Stir  and  linger,  stir  and  linger, 
Poke  and  pry,  thou  busy  finger. 

[The  cock  crows.    The  WITCH  rushes  to  the  fireplace.    There  is  a 
puff  of  red  smoke  and  she  disappears.    The  cock  crows  again.] 


ACT  II 

SCENE:  A  clearing  in  the  Forest  of  Arden.  It  is  the 
afternoon  of  May-day.  A  grassy  knoll  is  near  the 
right  front.  Trees  and  bushes  circle  the  clearing. 
Country  folk  move  back  and  forth,  bubbling  with 
pleasure  in  the  day  and  scene. 

FILCH  has  a  tray  suspended  from  his  neck  on  which  are 
masks,  trinkets,  ballads  rolled  and  tied  with  ribbons, 
and  an  open  sack,  as  in  Act  I.  From  time  to  time 
he  deftly  removes  a  purse  or  trifle  from  one  of  the 
crowd.  He  is  industriously  hawking  his  wares. 

FILCH 

Come  ye  one  and  come  ye  many, 
Bits  and  bobs  for  half  a  penny, 
And  if  you  would  spend  a  shilling 
Take  my  trayful,  an  you're  willing. 
Fortunes  by  the  hour  I'll  tell  you, 
Ballads  by  the  yard  I'll  sell  you. 
Any  tidbit  you  are  wishing 
Name,  that  I  may  do  the  dishing. 
Come  you  sweet,  and  pay  so  little 
'Twill  be  but  a  fairy's  tittle. 
Come  you  sour  and  full  o'  trouble 
Filch  will  joy  to  charge  you  double. 

LASS 
Please,  Master  Filch,  read  my  fortune. 

49 


50  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

FILCH 

Your  fortune  is  plain  in  your  face — and  yet,  God 
wot,  'tis  not  a  plain  face. 

LASS 
What  read  ye  there? 

FILCH 

A  marvel  of  nature :  that  cherries  and  tulips  are  one 
and  the  same,  and  being  plucked  should  bring  a  high 
market  price. 

[There  is  a  laugh  and  the  lass  is  discomfited.] 

LASS 
You'll  get  na  pay  for  that! 

FILCH 

I  had  hopes  that  in  payment  you  would  shake  down 
just  one  cherry  for  me. 

[The  crowd  guffaws.    A  second  lass  puts  forth  her  hand.] 

SECOND   LASS 

Prithee,  look  at  that,  Master  Pedlar. 
FILCH 

A  smooth  dial;  a  white  dial.  You  would  know  what 
o'clock  by  it?  It  says  your  sun  is  well  up  in  the  heav- 
ens and  has  cast  no  shadows  for  you. 

SECOND   LASS 

But,  good  Master  Pedlar,  donna  you  see  any — 
lads? 


ACT  II  51 

FILCH 

Lads?    Nay. 

SECOND   LASS 

[Pouting.] 
I  donna  believe  you. 

FILCH 

Lads,  nay,  but  lad — yea!  There  is  one  lad  so  much 
at  home  he  has  driven  off  all  t'others.  He  looks  as  if 
he  were  come  to  stay. 

BUMPKIN 
[Elbowing  up  and  taking  the  lass  by  the  arm.} 

May  I  eat  naught  but  dunch-dumplings,  Pedlar,  if 
'tisna  true.  Gi'  me  a  smudge,  lass,  an'  say  the  word. 

[She  runs  into  the  crowd,  he  pursuing.] 

FILCH 

[Holding  up  a  small  bottle.] 

Here  be  May-day  dew  that  I  bottled  at  dawn. 
'Twill  make  the  complexion  as  clear  as  the  bells  o' 
Trinity  steeple.  Only  a  few  bottles  left.  [Aside,  with 
a  wink.}  Dipped  fresh  from  the  Avon,  within  the 
hour! 

[A  bumpkin  enters  on  a  run,  chased  by  two  or  three  laughing  lasses. 
He  wears  a  devil's  mask,  with  horns,  and  ducks  in  and  out 
of  the  crowd  until  captured.  They  lead  him  forward.} 

ONE   OF   THE   LASSES 

Master  Pedlar,  the  Old  Harry's  horns  be  horns  o' 


52  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

plenty  and  he  wishes  to  pour  some  o'  your  baubles  on 
us. 

FILCH 

Good  devil!  Generous  devil!  They  will  make  o' 
you  afore  long  a  smug,  respectable  devil.  [The  girls 
busily  select  their  gewgaws  from  FILCH'S  tray.]  Here 
be  straws,  oaten  straws — the  very  straws  themselves — 
with  which  Cupid — the  sly-boots! — tickled  the  chin  of 
his  lady  love.  Come,  worthies,  and  buy.  [^side.] 
Fresh  from  Farmer  Goodman's  haystack! 

YOUTH 
Whut  good  be  they  to  a  body? 

FILCH 

What  good,  ye  ask?  Why,  just  as  Cupid  tickled  the 
chin  of  his  wench  and  caused  her  to  snigger,  so  may  ye 
try  it  on  the  chin  o'  your  lass  and  make  her  to  smile 
on  you.  Na  smile,  na  pay. 

YOUTH 
That  do  be  worth  tryin'.    Gi'  me  a  mortal  fine  one. 

FILCH 
Here  'tis — a  tawny,  oaten  straw,  Cupid's  own. 

[YOUTH  takes  it  and  tickles  the  chin  of  a  lass.  She  giggles  riot- 
ously. The  youth  daps  his  knee  with  delight  and  pays  FILCH. 
Enter  WILL  and  BETSY,  the  latter  carrying  the  INDIAN  BOY.] 

BETSY 
[To  Will.} 

Mayhap  someone  here  can  tell  us. 


ACT  II  53 

WILL 

[To  a  by  slander.] 

Good  morrow,  sir.    Can  you  tell  us  where  dwells 
Titania,  the  Queen? 

BYSTANDER 

Queen  o'  whut? 

WILL 

The  Fairies. 

BYSTANDER 

Na,  I  ken  naught  o'  the  Queen  o'  the  Fairies. 

FILCH 

[Scenting  customers.] 

Young  sir,  I  see  by  your  sword  and  babe  you  are 
both  a  man  of  action  and  a  man  of  family. 

WILL 
I  am  neither,  wag,  as  you  know. 

FILCH 

You  have  me  hipped.    Command  me. 

WILL 

We  seek  a  Queen  called  Titania.    Know  you  where 
she  may  be  found? 

FILCH 

Alack,  young  sir,  your  Queen  I  know  not.   But  have 


54  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

you  heard  that  our  good  Queen  Bess  is  to  witness  the 
morris-dancers  and  the  May-pole? 

BETSY 

The  Queen,  Will?    Shall  we  see  the  Queen? 

WILL 
Yea,  we  shall  stay.    Perchance  she  may  aid  us. 

BETSY 

Ho,  little  lamb !  You  shall  see  our  Queen  with  your 
very  own  peepers. 

[FiLCH  has  removed  WILL'S  purse  which  hung  at  his  side.  The 
baby  cries  and  FILCH  is  all  genial  solicitude.  He  shakes  a 
dried  gourd  enticingly.} 

FILCH 

Lookee,  you  lusty  recklin.  Listen  to  the  music. 
[The  cries  cease.}  He  has  a  marvelous  ear  for  music, 
good  sir.  You  should  buy  this  for  him. 

WILL 

Faith,  I'll  do  it.  [Misses  his  pouch]  Soul  and 
body  o' me!  My  purse  has  been  taken. 

BETSY 
Surely,  you  mistake. 

WILL 

Certes,  'tis  gone.  And  my  new  mill-sixpence  that 
I  did  hold  for  a  wishing-piece! 


ACT  II  55 

FILCH 

Alackaday!  What  scape-gallows  could  ha'  done 
this  fell  thing? 

WILL 

Now  I  cannot  buy  the  babe  his  bauble. 

FILCH 

'Tis  top-full  sorry  business.  Filch  would  ever  do  a 
good  turn  an  he  could.  Make  for  me  a  ballad  or 
couplet  or  what-not,  in  payment  for  this  monstrous 
fine  charmer,  and  you  shall  keep  it  for  your  bronzy 
brat. 

WILL 

Agreed,  Master  Pedlar.     I'll  whip  up  my  muse. 

Filch  thou  art  and  Filch  thou'lt  be, 
Too  much  Filch  by  half  for  me. 
Filch  by  name  and  Filch  by  trade, 
Filch,  thy  fortune's  good  as  made, 
For  thou'lt  mount  to  higher  things — 
E'en  to  Tyburn  spread  thy  wings. 
Whilst  in  comfort  swinging  there 
Thou  canst  steal  a  breath  of  air. 

[There  is  a  round  of  laughter  in  which  FILCH  is  foremost.} 


FILCH 

Take  the  gourd,  boy.    May  all  my  teeth  be  strung 
on  lute  strings  and  hung  in  the  Old  Harry's  barber 


56  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

shop,  if  you  have  not  earned  it!    Marry,  what  have 
we  here?    [Stoops.]    Your  purse! 

[Hands  it  to  WILL. 

Lutes  and  singing  are  heard.    A  lad  runs  in  breathlessly  from  the 

right.] 

LAD 

Make  way!    Make  way!    Our  Queen  be  a-comin'! 
Our  Queen  be  a-comin' ! 

[.4  wave  of  eagerness  stirs  the  crowd,  and  it  falls  back,  though  in- 
clining expectantly  toward  the  approaching  company.  The 
strumming  and  singing  have  grown  louder  and  the  MIN- 
STRELS stroll  in,  followed  by  QUEEN  ELIZABETH  (whose 
costume  is  topped  by  a  crown),  a  LAD Y-LN- WAITING,  and 
SIR  THOMAS  LUCY.] 

THE  MINSTRELS 
[Singing.] 

Who  would  not  sing  on  May-day, 

On  May-day, 

On  May-day, 

Who  would  not  sing  on  May-day 
When  Springtime  is  awake! 
The  mary-buds  are  paying 
Bright  gold  for  their  delaying, 
And  fairy  folk  are  straying 
From  out  the  wooded  brake. 

Who  would  not  dance  on  May-day, 

On  May-day, 

On  May-day, 
Who  would  not  dance  on  May-day 


ACT  II  57 

And  ring  around  the  pole ! 
The  hawthorn  bush  is  pinking, 
The  lady-smocks  are  prinking, 
And  all  this  bobolinking 
Makes  quiring  in  my  soul. 

THE   QUEEN 
[Sinking  upon  the  knoll.] 

Cease  your  noise,  madcaps.  You  will  set  me  to 
dancing  ere  I  know  it. 

FILCH 

Come,  lads  and  lasses !  Swell  your  girths,  and  give 
a  cheer  for  our  good  Queen  Bess. 

[They  cheer  stoutly.] 
THE   QUEEN 

My  thanks,  loyal  subjects.  The  ship  of  state  need 
never  be  becalmed,  if  the  bellows  of  England  blow  so 
gustily. 

LADY-IN-WAITING 

This  seems  a  brave  adventure. 

THE   QUEEN 

'Tis  at  least  a  time-whiler. 

[FiLCH  puts  a  cap  over  his  doubled  fist,  which  he  has  dotted  with 
two  black  spots  for  eyes  and,  making  his  fingers  move  as  if 
they  were  a  mouth,  speaks  in  a  falsetto.} 


58  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

FILCH 

Come  buy  of  Filch, 

Come  buy  of  Filch, 
Come  buy  of  Filch,  the  Pedlar. 
He'll  sell  you  aught  from  brats  to  brains; 
He'll  laugh  at  you  for  all  your  pains; 

He'll  drain  your  cup 

And  snap  you  up 
And  prove  a  merry  meddler. 

THE   QUEEN 

I  wager  yon  fellow  is  as  full  of  quips  and  quillets 
as  the  sea  of  brine.  Ho,  Pedlar!  [FILCH  approaches 
and  bows.]  For  how  long  has  peddling  been  your  pro- 
fession? 

FILCH 

Beshrew  my  heart,  Majesty,  if  peddling  be  my  pro- 
fession; 'tis  but  my  recreation. 

THE   QUEEN 

Indeed,  merry  lob !   What  call  you  your  profession? 


FILCH 

An  it  please  you,  I  am  a  skilled  arithmetician; 
quick  at  subtraction  [removing  a  ribbon  from  a  nearby 
lass],  able  in  addition  [adding  the  ribbon  to  his  sack], 
keen  at  multiplication  [taking  a  purse  with  one  hand 
and  a  fan  from  the  LADY-IN-WAITING  with  the  other], 
and  celebrated  in  division.  [Aside.]  Long  division 
i  for  Filch  and  short  division  for  t'others. 


ACT  II  59 

THE   QUEEN 

Arithmetics  is  a  cold  business — as  hard  as  iron. 

FILCH 

Or  steel! 

THE   QUEEN 

You  should  find  a  softer  one. 

FILCH 

Already  have  I  done  so. 

THE   QUEEN 

How,  fellow? 

FILCH 

I  am  an  artist.    I  draw  from  life. 

[Removes  a  handkerchief  from  SIR  THOMAS'S  sleeve.] 

THE   QUEEN 

Mayhap  if  your  artist  skill  match  your  wit  I  shall 
give  you  a  pose. 

FILCH 

Marry,  a  pose  from  the  Queen  would  be  a  poser  for 
Filch.  Nay,  a  pose  from  you  is  a  posy  for  me;  rather, 
a  whole  nosegay — not  that  your  nose  is  gay;  it  puts 
me  in  mind  o'  a  lily,  'tis  so  proud  and  pale. 

THE   QUEEN 

Heigh  ho,  boiled  brain!  Your  nonsense  threats  my 
poise,  but  the  pose  is  yours. 


60  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

FILCH 

God  mend  me!    My  pose  is  but  your  poise  blinded. 

THE   QUEEN 

Unriddle  your  speech. 

FILCH 
What  is  pose  but  poise  with  its  eye  out? 

THE   QUEEN 

Knave,  you  shall  not  have  my  pose  in  spectacles. 

FILCH 

Your  beauteous  pose  shall  be  of  itself  the  spectacle. 

THE   QUEEN 

Fie  upon  you!    [Sound  of  bugles.]    The  dancers! 

FILCH 

The  dancers !  Stand  back,  you  gapes,  if  you  would 
not  get  your  toes  cracked. 

[The  bugles  draw  nearer.  Enter  FRIAR  TUCK  with  solemn  mien, 
bearing  a  heavy  staff.  The  crowd  cheers.  He  gravely  makes 
the  circuit  of  the  clearing  and  drops  his  staff  upon  some 
obtruding  toes.  The  victim  shrieks.] 

FRIAR  TUCK 

Think  not  of  self.  Count  thy  beads  and  repent  thee 
of  thy  folly.  [The  crowd  cheers  and  laughs.  The  FRIAR 
drops  his  staff  on  SIR  THOMAS'S  feet,  which  causes  him 


ACT  II  6l 

to  leap  in  pained  surprise.}  Back !  turn  thee  back  while 
yet  there  be  time.  Thy  feet,  dancing  as  on  a  gridiron, 
have  strayed  from  out  the  straight  and  narrow  path. 
Say  a  pater-noster  and  'ware  thee  o'  purgatory. 

[The  crowd  roars} 
THE   QUEEN 

Already  you  have  a  touch  of  purgatorial  fires  in 
your  toes,  eh,  Lucy? 

[FRIAR  TUCK  stands  aside  and  the  bugles  again  sound.  Enter 
ROBIN  HOOD  and  the  other  morris-dancers,  the  HOBBY 
HORSE  and  the  DRAGON  bringing  up  the  rear.  They  dance. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  dance  there  is  cheering,  and  the  QUEEN 
sends  a  purse  to  ROBIN  HOOD. 

Exeunt  dancers  to  the  sound  of  bugle,  pipe,  and  bell.  The  crowd 
follows  with  the  exception  of  the  QUEEN,  WILL,  BETSY,  the 
INDIAN  BOY,  SIR  THOMAS,  the  LADY-IN-WAITING,  FILCH, 
and  the  MINSTRELS.  WILL  and  BETSY  await  an  oppor- 
tunity to  approach  the  QUEEN.  FILCH  retires  up  stage  to 
count  his  money  and  look  over  his  wares} 

THE   QUEEN 

I  have  been  vastly  diverted.     [To  SIR  THOMAS.] 
Sir  Long  Face,  why  do  you  not  seek  to  amuse  me? 

SIR  THOMAS 

I,  your  Majesty? 

THE   QUEEN 

Yea,  you,  my  majesty!     Your  visage  hath  been 
washed  in  vinegar. 


62  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

SIR  THOMAS 

You  misjudge  me.  I  can  be  as  rompish  as  a  babe. 
[Looks  around.]  Ho,  Pedlar! 

FILCH 
O  Sir,  most  worthy  Sir,  here  am  I,  Sir! 

SIR  THOMAS 

Give  me  your  drollest  mask. 

FILCH 

[Rummaging  in  his  sack  and  bringing  forth  an  ass's  head.] 

This  it  is,  your  worthiness.  [Aside.]  "Pis  his  twin 
brother. 

[SiR  THOMAS  claps  on  the  head,  tossing  FILCH  a  coin  which  he 
catches,  bites,  spits  upon,  rubs,  and  thrusts  into  his  money 
bag.  SIR  THOMAS  makes  his  courtliest  bow  to  the  QUEEN.] 

SIR  THOMAS 

Speak,  I  bray  you;  I  have  ears  for  your  slightest 
word. 

THE   QUEEN 

You  graven  image!  Now  are  you  in  truth  in  royal 
favor.  Verily,  two  heads  are  better  than  one,  though 
one  is — Sir  Thomas's! 

[WILL  and  BETSY,  with  the  baby,  come  forward.] 
WILL 

An  it  please  you,  gracious  Queen,— 


ACT  II  63 

LADY-IN-WAITING 

Stand  you  back,  chuff.  Would  you  address  her 
Majesty  without  permission? 

THE   QUEEN 

I  am  inclined  to  yeaward.  Bid  them  approach. 
Why,  Sir  Thomas !  May  I  take  eggs  for  money  if  this 
lad  be  not  your  youthful  poacher. 

WILL 
But  I  did  not  poach,  your  Majesty. 

THE   QUEEN 

What  matters  it,  so  long  as  you  were  forgiven? 

WILL 
It  matters  much  to  me. 

THE   QUEEN 

Marry,  the  March-chick  hath  an  ostrich  conscience. 
How  you  did  manage  to  hatch  that  giant  bird  out  of 
your  tiny  shell,  I  wot  not.  Beware  lest  it  swallow  you 
whole. 

WILL 

Laugh,  an  you  will,  at  my  expense.  I  can  afford  to 
pay. 

THE   QUEEN 

Would  that  you  were  my  treasurer.  Now,  chick, 
what  wish  you  of  your  Queen? 


64  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 


WILL 


May  it  please  your  Majesty  to  help  us  restore  this 
babe  to  his  foster-mother. 

[BETSY,  with  a  curtsy,  holds  forth  the  baby.] 


THE   QUEEN 

His  foster-mother?    Who  is  she? 

WILL 
A  Queen. 

THE   QUEEN 

A  Queen,  say  ye? 

WILL 
A  most  beauteous  Queen. 

THE   QUEEN 
[Her  glance  cooling.] 
Indeed !    She  must  be  fair. 

WILL 

'Tis  said  she  hath  the  radiancy  o'  dawn  and  the  grace 
o'  twilight. 

THE   QUEEN 

Who  is  your  paragon, — Venus? 

WILL 
She  is  called  Titania  and  is  Queen  of  all  the  Fairies. 


ACT  II  65 

THE   QUEEN 

We  know  naught  of  your  Titania.  [To  SIR  THOMAS.] 
What  think  you,  Lucy, — this  lad  hath  stolen  from  your 
park;  why  not  from  the  cradle? 

SIR  THOMAS 

"Tis  most  likely,  I  should  say. 

THE   QUEEN 

Ass,  look  not  so  serious.  [To  her  LADY-IN-WAIT- 
ING.] Doth  it  not  seem  probable  the  boy  hath  stolen 
the  babe? 

LADY-IN-WAITING 

Certes,  I  vow  you  are  right.  Both  the  wench  and 
lad  have  a  guilty  look.  And  yet,  they  are  seeking  to 
restore  the  babe,  said  they  not? 

THE   QUEEN 

Ay — they're  doubtless  tired  o'  their  burden  and 
now  would  rid  themselves  of  it.  Ho,  Pedlar! — eke 
artist — eke  arithmetician. 

FILCH 

Thrice  at  your  service;  and  I  come  speedily,  for  my 
peddling  feet  hope  to  run  down  a  sale,  my  artistical 
feet  draw  me  with  ease,  and  my  arithmetical  feet 
bear  me  quickest  of  all  because  o'  their  numbers. 

THE   QUEEN 

Then  bid  your  three-fold  feet  bear  you  featlier  than 
ever.  I  would  have  them  fetch  a  constable. 


66  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

FILCH 

Feet,  do  hear  your  Queen  and  Master?  Majesty, 
they  say  every  toe  has  a  quadruple  joint  and  that  in 
each  heel  have  the  wings  of  Mercury  feathered. 

THE   QUEEN 

Away,  Chatterbox!  Your  tongue  has  more  joints 
than  all  your  toes  together.  [Exit  FILCH  on  a  run. 
WILL  and  BETSY  move  away.]  Stop,  boy.  A  constable 
will  take  you  and  your  babe  in  charge  until  your 
beauteous  Titania  has  been  found. 

[SiR  THOMAS  vainly  endeavors  to  remove  his  mask-head.] 
SIR  THOMAS 

Will  someone  give  me  aid?    I  tire  o'  this  folly. 

[The  MINSTRELS  go  to  his  assistance,  but  the  head  will  not  come  off. 
WILL  and  BETSY  have  moved  near  SIR  THOMAS.  Enter 
FILCH  and  the  CONSTABLE.! 

FILCH 

Here  comes  the  law's  staunch  pillar,  Majesty. 

[The  CONSTABLE  bows  and  scrapes,  and  scrapes  and  bows,  pulling 
his  forelock  industriously.} 

THE   QUEEN 

Do  not  uproot  your  forelock,  Master  Constable, 
else  what  would  be  left  with  which  to  salute  your 
Queen? 

[The  CONSTABLE  is  stupefied  with  confusion.} 


ACT  II  67 

FILCH 

[To  CONSTABLE  in  whisper.] 
You  still  could  scratch  your  head. 

CONSTABLE 

[Brightening,  and  re-commencing  his  bows  and  scrapes.] 
Ah-yea,  Queen,  I  cud  scrattle  m'  yed. 

THE   QUEEN 

Stand  on  your  yed,  mon,  an  it  please  you — but, 
marry,  come  up !    what  means  this  tangle? 

[SiR  THOMAS  has  been  trying  with  mounting  energy  to  remove  the 
mask,  and  the  MINSTRELS  are  tugging  with  might  and  main] 

SIR  THOMAS 

Help!    Deuce  take  the  thing! 

THE   QUEEN 

Lucy,  I  am  your  debtor.    Never  saw  I  more  pleasing 
sight  for  laughter. 

SIR  THOMAS 

Get  me  out  o'  this. 

THE   QUEEN 

May  I  be  carbonadoed  if  'tis  not  a  waggish  specta- 
cle.   Will  't  not  come  off? 

[FILCH  takes  the  baby  from  the  arms  of  BETSY,  who  is  absorbed  in 
the  struggle,  and  drops  him  into  the  sack] 


68  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

ONE   OF   THE  MINSTRELS 

'Tis  held  by  a  thousand  furies. 

ANOTHER  MINSTREL 

'Twill  not  budge. 

SIR  THOMAS 

I  am  dying  of  shame.  Let  me  escape  the  sight  of 
men. 

[He  runs  off.] 

THE   QUEEN 

Pshaw!  the  diverting  play  is  over. 

FILCH 
It  speaks  well  for  the  lasting  quality  o'  my  wares. 

THE   QUEEN 

Hither,  fellow!  You  went  on  our  mission  so  featly 
we  would  give  you  our  purse  for  your  pains  and  enter- 
tainment. 

FILCH 

Not  your  purse,  Majesty,  0  most  sweet,  sweet 
Majesty.  I  cannot  take  your  purse. 

THE   QUEEN 

Then  name  your  own  reward. 

FILCH 

I  will  take  but  one  golden  crown.    And  I  will  not 


ACT  II  69 

spend  it.    I  will  keep  it  to  bear  you  in  mind.    One 
golden  crown. 

THE   QUEEN 

Take  it,  fellow,  and  welcome. 

FILCH 

[Pointing  forwards.    A II  looking  expectantly.] 
See  yonder! 

[He  removes  the  crown  from  the  QUEEN'S  head  and  drops  it  into  his 

sack.] 


Your  pardon,  Majesty,  most,  most  sweet  Majesty, 
but  mine  eyes,  I  fear,  did  play  me  tricks.  Methought  a 
sparrow  was  robbing  a  hawk's  nest. 

THE   QUEEN 

Let  us  to  business.  Master  Constable,  take  into 
custody  this  babe  and  the  lad  and  lass  who  stole  it. 

BETSY 

[Running  forward,  her  arms  outstretched.] 
Gone!  the  babe  is  gone! 

WILL 

The  bronze  nestling  out  of  its  cage!  But  it  could 
not  fly  far. 

[FILCH  slips  of,  right.] 


70  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

THE   QUEEN 

Impossible!  Does  neither  of  you  know  what  has 
happed  to  the  poor  babe?  Have  you  not  hidden  him? 

WILL 

Have  search  made,  if  you  think  it  likely — in  the 
crotch  of  yon  tree — in  a  last  year's  acorn  cup — in  a 
mary-bud's  pocket  o'  gold.  There  are  a  score  o'  places 
in  which  babes  may  be  tucked  away — out  of  sight  o' 
the  blind. 

THE   QUEEN 

You  prate  saucily.  Constable,  let  these  children 
see  the  lining  of  the  Town  Cage  till  they  confess  their 
misdeeds.  [The  CONSTABLE  scratches  his  head.]  Ay, 
scrattle  your  yed,  mon.  All  your  wits  are  on  the 
outside  of  it. 

[Raises  hands  to  her  head.   Gives  a  cry  and  leaps  to  her  feet.] 
LADY-IN-WAITING 

Sweet  Queen,  what  ails  you? 

THE   QUEEN 

My  crown! 

ALL 

Your  crown! 

THE   QUEEN 

Gone! 

LADY-IN-WAITING 

Who  could  have  taken  it? 


ACT  II  71 

CONSTABLE 

The  gentleman  Ass. 

THE   QUEEN 

Body  o'  me,  nay.   Sir  Thomas  hath  not  the  imagina- 
tion. 

WILL 

[Banging  his  fist  smartly  on  his  hand.] 
The  Pedlar!    Filch! 

THE   QUEEN 

Boy,  you  have  said.    He  hath  the  wit  and  methinks 
he  hath  the  roguery. 

WILL 
He  went  southward  but  a  moment  since. 

THE   QUEEN 

Enough.    My  crown! 

WILL  and  BETSY 
The  babe! 

[The  MINSTRELS,  followed  by  WILL,  BETSY,  the  CONSTABLE,  the 
LADY-IN-WAITING  and  the  QUEEN  rush  of  stage  shouting 
variously,  "The  crown!"  "The  babel"} 


ACT  III 

SCENE:  The  Forest  of  Arden  in  the  moonlight. 

SIR  THOMAS  is  in  the  center  of  the  clearing  making 
fantastic  and  despairing  efforts  to  remove  the  ass- 
head. 

Fairy  bells  tinkle.  Enter  TITANIA  and  her  train.  Seeing 
SIR  THOMAS  they  burst  into  peals  of  mirth. 

FAIRIES 

Ring  a  ring  a  rosie, 
What  a  funny  nosey! 
Here's  a  merry  mortal 
On  our  forest  portal. 
He's  so  big  and  eary 
He  shall  be  our  deary. 
Perfect  time  he  keepeth 
As  his  body  leapeth. 
How  his  feet  are  prancing, 
Tuned  to  joyous  dancing! 
Bear  him,  gentle  grasses — 
He's  the  King  of  Asses. 

[They  circle  round  him  in  a  dance.] 
TITANIA 

Oh,  you  roguish  fellow!    I  do  love  you  for  your 
drolleries. 

[She  sways  in  a  gust  of  laughter.] 
72 


ACT  III  73 

SIR  THOMAS 

You  mock  me  cruelly.    I  would  lose  this  head. 

CADENCE 

He  wishes  to  lose  his  head. 

CHALICE 

Verily,  he  is  the  merriest  ass  mine  eyes  have  looked 
upon. 

SIR  THOMAS 

Give  me  air!  give  me  air! 

DULCET 

If  'tis  an  heir  you  are  seeking,  pray  take  me.    I  am 
as  poor  as  a  cathedral  mousie. 

MELODY 

Ah,  Dulcet,  think  you  twice.    What  if  you  should 
inherit  those  generous  ears? 

DULCET 
I  could  drink  in  sweet  sounds  by  the  hogshead. 

CADENCE 

Or  that  prodigal  nosey? 

DULCET 

I  could  follow  it  and  never  get  lost. 

SIR  THOMAS 

Give  me  air!  give  me  air! 


74  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

TITANIA 

'Tis  not  an  heir  he  wishes — 'tis  atmosphere  in  mo- 
tion. 

[They  wave  their  tiny  fans  about  him  in  playful  solicitude.} 
SIR  THOMAS 

Cease  your  fooleries!    Have  you  no  hearts? 

TITANIA 
[Importantly.] 

Yea,  I  am  growing  one, — a  veritable  mother-heart. 
[The  FAIRIES  hang  their  heads.] 

SIR  THOMAS 

Then  by  that  heart,  I  conjure  you  to  hear  me.  I  am 
full  of  misery  because  this  ass-head  hath  been  clapped 
upon  my  shoulders  and  clings  thereto  like  a  million 
leeches. 

TITANIA 

O  thou  poor  dear!  Come  thou  here  and  be  com- 
forted. Cadence!  Dulcet!  Chalice!  Melody!  Stand 
you  back.  You  have  no  hearts  and  cannot  know  how 
this  afflicted  gentleman  doth  suffer.  [The  FAIRIES 
sulk  in  the  background.  TITANIA  leads  SIR  THOMAS 
to  the  knoll  and  seating  him,  caresses  his  head  tenderly.] 
Thou  poor  Ass!  Titania's  heart  waxeth  fuller  and 
stronger  with  each  glance  at  thee.  [SiR  THOMAS  gives  a 
huge  sigh.]  Here!  put  thy  head  upon  my  shoulder. 
Now  art  thou  a  peaceful  Ass. 

[Tinkle  of  bells.  Enter  OBERON,  ROBIN,  and  the  PUCKS.  At  the 
sight  of  TITANIA  and  SIR  THOMAS,  OBERON  pauses,  dumb 
with  rage,  hand  on  sword-hilt.] 


ACT  III  75 

SIR  THOMAS 

Is  not  my  head  heavy  for  your  delicate  shoulders? 

TITANIA 

Nay,  most  gentle  and  sympathetic  Ass,  not  heavy — 
but  thy  poor  ears  are  over-large  and  hairy.  [She  gives 
her  head  a  slight  shake  and  blows  a  trifle  of  air  through 
her  lips.  Another  sigh  escapes  SIR  THOMAS.]  Yet  are 
they  shapely  ears,  monstrous  shapely  ears,  and  soft,  oh 
soft,  as  the  Humble  Bee's  waistcoat. 

OBERON 
Leave  that  odious  monster! 

[TITANIA  leaps  to  her  feet.] 

TITANIA 

Oberon! 

ROBIN 

[Hopping  about  gleefully.} 
A  brawl!  a  brawl!  I  do  love  a  brawl! 

TITANIA 

[To  ROBIN.] 

You  bedlam !  [ROBIN  and  the  PUCKS  laugh  and  play 
leap-frog.]  Come,  Fairies,  our  feet  shall  not  tread  the 
same  grasses  as  Oberon. 

OBERON 
Titania,— 

TITANIA 

Come,  Fairies,  come. 

[Exeunt  TITANIA  and  the  FAIRIES.] 


76  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

OBERON 

[Pointing  to  SIR  THOMAS.] 
See  the  silly  monster! 

ROBIN 

Tis  a  dignified,  solemn  Ass.    Mayhap  he  will  smile 
for  us. 

[Tickles  him  with  a  twig.} 

SIR  THOMAS 

Cease  your  torments. 

OBERON 

How  chances  it  you  are  in  the  soft  graces  of  our 
Queen? 

SIR  THOMAS 

She  but  strove  to  comfort  me. 

OBERON 

You  know  otherwise,  you  doleful  donkey. 

ROBIN 
Methinks  he  is  a  lying  Ass. 

PUCKS 
A  lying  Ass! 

SIR  THOMAS 

Mock  me  no  further.     Take  this  effigy  from  my 
shoulders  and  by  my  goodly  acres  I  will  serve  you  to 


ACT  III  77 

the  top  of  your  bent.    I  did  but  put  it  on  to  make 
sport  for  Queen  Bess,  and  dearly  have  I  rued  it. 

OBERON 
Think  you  he  speaks  true? 

ROBIN 

He  hath  the  earmarks  o'  something  upon  him. 

COWSLIP 

An  they  be  the  earmarks  o'  truth,  then  doth  he 
speak  a  large,  buxom  truth. 

ROBIN 
He  seemeth  more  goose  than  ass. 

SIR  THOMAS 

But  take  off  this  hairy  helmet  and  you  may  call  me 
what  you  will. 

OBERON 

I  have  a  fancy  to  believe  you.  You  are  so  vile  to 
look  upon,  our  Queen  could  not  have  been  moved  by 
aught  but  disgust  or  pity.  Are  you  ready  to  hearken 
to  terms? 

SIR  THOMAS 

Yea,  right  ready. 

OBERON 

A  little  Indian  boy  with  a  skin  like  bronze  has 
been  stolen. 


78  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

ROBIN 
By  a  lad  and  lass  named  Will  and  Betsy. 

SIR  THOMAS 
I  know  the  lad.     He  has  poached  at  Charlecote. 

OBERON 

I  am  fain  to  have  the  babe.  Keep  wide  open  your 
eyes  and  patrol  a  part  of  the  Forest  this  night.  If  you 
espy  him,  seize  him.  Should  you  find  the  wench 
and  colt,  take  them  prisoner  and  hold  them  till  I  come. 

SIR  THOMAS 
It  shall  be  done,  my  word  on  't. 

OBERON 

Then,  by  the  moontide  flowing  down, 
Rid  thy  noddle  of  its  crown. 

[OBERON  touches  the  mask  with  his  sword  and  SIR  THOMAS  lifts 
it  of.  He  gives  his  head  a  huge  shake  and  takes  a  deep  breath 
of  fresh  air.] 

SIR  THOMAS 
I  lose  my  head  that  I  may  find  it. 

OBERON 
Fare  you  well.    Remember! 

[They  salute  with  their  swords,  then  sheathe  them. 

Exeunt  OBERON  and  PUCKS,  left.    SIR  THOMAS  takes  another 

deep  breath,  feels  his  neck  with  pleasure,  and  drawing  his 

sword,  goes  o_ff,  right. 


ACT  III  79 

Enter  FILCH,  rear.  He  looks  about  him,  puts  his  tray  near  the 
knoll  and  dropping  beside  it  takes  the  INDIAN  BOY  from  his 
sack  and  cossets  him.] 

FILCH 

There,  little  recklin,  no  bigger  than  a  fairy's  minute, 
now  shall  we  have  a  cuddle-time  together.  Whilst  so 
wee,  in  my  sack  must  you  ride,  as  brave  and  snug  as 
the  Lord  Mayor  o'  London  Town.  When  you  get 
higher  and  shed  your  pinny  for  strides,  you  shall  jog 
along  at  my  side  and  wheedle  trade  for  us.  I'll 
prank  you  up  in  all  the  bravery  o'  the  shops  and 
you'll  never  have  call  to  blush  for  the  two  on  us. 
[The  baby  cries}  Hush,  you  anointed  bad  one!  Dry 
you  up  and  you  shall  be  fed  full  o'  stuffed  chine  o' 
pork,  with  now  and  then  a  dash  of  roasted  crabs. 
[Louder  cries}  Hushaby,  hush!  I  may  have  to  warm 
your  sallow  skin  wi'  the  flat  o'  my  hand  if  you  still  not 
your  squawks.  [More  cries.]  I  have  it!  You  need 
to  cut  your  wee  bit  teeth.  Here's  the  very  trick. 
[Takes  from  his  sack  the  QUEEN'S  crown.)  There, 
lusty  limb!  Cut  your  teeth  on  that.  Never  was 
crown  put  to  fairer  use.  [The  cries  cease.]  I  be  a 
dabster !  I  take  to  nursing  as  a  duckling  to  the  pond. 
Now,  my  collop,  I  must  forage  for  a  bite  to  eat.  First 
will  I  fetch  a  bowl  of  clear  water  that  good  fairies  may 
find  you  and  witches  may  not  come  anigh  you.  [He 
lays  the  baby  in  the  shelter  of  the  knoll,  the  crown  with 
him]  Hold  fast  to  your  bauble.  At  last  do  I  know 
what  crowns  be  for — toys  for  babes  to  teethe  on.  [He 
takes  a  small  bowl  from  his  tray  and  goes  out,  right. 
Returns  and  places  the  bowl  beside  the  baby.]  There  is 
the  charm  to  keep  you  safe.  What,  little  chuck,  asleep 


8o  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

so  soon!  [Resumes  his  tray  and  looks  upon  the  baby 
tenderly.]  Sleep  you  soft  till  you  have  rounded  out 
your  little  dreams. 

[Exit  FILCH,  rear.    A  flash  of  red  smoke,  right,  and  the  WITCH 
OF  WIMBLE  enters.] 

WITCH 

This  busy  finger  hath  itched  to  do  its  work.  [Stirs 
with  it.]  'Tis  time  I  had  the  brat  again. 

[Goes  to  baby.    Seeing  the  bowl  she  draws  back  in  affright.] 

Water  for  witch 
Cometh  from  ditch. 
Water  that's  pure 
Witch  can't  endure. 

[With  her  body  drawn  away  she  peers  at  the  bowl.] 

Ha!  a  foul  spot.  A  spinner  hath  fallen  from  a  twig 
and  smirched  it. 

[Stoops  to  take  the  baby  as  WILL  and  BETSY  enter.    She  stays 
motionless  when  she  hears  their  voices.] 

BETSY 

This  is  where  Mother  Hatfield  of  Pepper  Alley  said 
we  would  find  the  babe. 

WILL 

It  is  well  we  consulted  her  wisdom,  for  the  White 
Witch  finds  lost  things  as  the  magnet  lifts  the  needle 
to  its  bosom.  [The  WITCH  stoops  swiftly  for  the  baby, 
but  before  she  can  reach  him,  WILL  runs  forward  and 
speaks  in  a  ringing  tone]  Z!  Y!  X!  W!  V!  U!  T! 


ACT  III  81 

S!  R!  Q!  P!  0!  N!  M!  L!  K!  J!  I!  H!  G!  F!  E!  D!  C! 

B!  A!  [The  WITCH  cowers  and  shudders  and  backs  off 
stage,  left.]  Tis  a  potent  charm  for  routing  witches. 
I  vow  I  say  the  criss-cross-row  better  tail  up  than 
head  up. 

BETSY 

My  lamb !   My  cade  lamb !   My  fleecy  youngling ! 
[Enter  SIR  THOMAS.] 

SIR  THOMAS 

Oho,  hedgehog!  tracked  at  last. 

WILL 

You  are  a  keen  hound  to  run  the  hedgehog  to  cover. 
'Tis  hard  to  tell  whether  you  make  better  hound  or  ass. 

SIR  THOMAS 

You  prate  without  period  or  comma,  boy, — you  are 
wordy  as  an  almanac. 

WILL 

You  have  not  the  wit  to  read  me. 

SIR  THOMAS 

I've  wit  in  plenty  to  have  you  flogged  black  and  blue. 

WILL 

Black  and  blue?  I  like  better  my  own  color  scheme, 
for  I'll  pink  you.  [Touches  him  with  his  sword.]  I'll 
pink  you  till  you're  red. 


82  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

SIR  THOMAS 

Give  me  the  babe. 

WILL 
Marry,  not  a  jot. 

SIR  THOMAS 

Then  will  I  cut  my  way  to  him. 
[Draws  his  sword.] 

WILL     . 
You'll  cut  it  through  steel,  an  you  do. 

SIR  THOMAS 

Tush!  Your  weakling  blade  is  a  small  bite  for  mine 
to  swallow. 

WILL 

It  hath  sharp  teeth  of  its  own  and  a  stout  stomach. 
Have  a  care.  [They  cross  blades  in  a  spirited  contest.] 
Speed  you  up,  Slowbones,  else  will  I  have  lost  and 
found  you  again. 

[They  continue  fighting.] 
SIR  THOMAS 

Dolt!—  -  Urchin! 

WILL 
Pikeshead! 

[WILL  has  pressed  SIR  THOMAS  to  the  edge  of  the  clearing,  and  now 
sends  his  sword  spinning  from  his  hand,  playing  his  own 
blade  about  SIR  THOMAS.] 


ACT  HI  83 

SIR  THOMAS 

Beware,  lad.    You  might  nip  me. 

WILL 

Ay,  that  I  might.    Mayhap  already  have  I  wounded 
your  feelings. 

SIR  THOMAS 

That  was  monstrous  nigh  my  ear. 

WILL 
Listen  to  what  it  would  tell  you. 

SIR  THOMAS 

That  time  it  brushed  against  my  nose. 

WILL 
Sneeze  it  away. 

SIR  THOMAS 

Let  me  go,  lad. 

WILL 
Am  I  poacher? 

SIR  THOMAS 

You  poacher?    Nay! 

WILL 

Dost  swear  it? 

SIR  THOMAS 

Ay,  lad. 

WILL 

Dost  swear  it  by  the  three  luces  on  thy  family  crest? 


84  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

SIR  THOMAS 

May  my  luces  turn  louses  if  you  be  poacher.  My 
keeper  shall  be  dismissed  for  nabbing  you.  'Twas  a 
grievous  error. 

WILL 

Nay,  keep  your  keeper,  and  if  you  would  keep 
whole  your  own  skin,  get  you  gone!  [Exit  SIR  THOMAS 
at  a  lively  pace.}  Forsooth,  he's  a  good  runner. 

BETSY 

Oh,  Will,  you  are  a  wondrous  fine  fighter.  My  heart 
so  plumped  against  my  ribs  as  I  looked  on  you,  I  was 
fearful  lest  it  get  out  of  its  cage. 

[Voices  are  heard.] 
WILL 

Hide  with  the  babe. 

[They  go  behind  a  clump  of  bushes.    Enter  QUEEN  ELIZABETH, 
her  LADY-IN-WAITING  and  the  MINSTRELS.] 

THE   QUEEN 

I  tell  you  'tis  a  bootless  search  till  we  find  that 
rascal,  Filch. 

LADY-IN-WAITING 

Methinks  Tyburn  Tree  is  lonesome  for  him. 

THE   QUEEN 

Tyburn  shall  have  him.  Oh  my  head!  my  head! 
What  is  a  Queen's  head  without  its  crown?  [Enter 
FILCH.]  There  is  the  mountebank  now. 


ACT  III  85 

FILCH 

How  may  I  serve  you,  Majesty,  most  sweet,  sweet 
Majesty? 

THE   QUEEN 

Scape-gallows!  where  is  our  royal  crown? 

FILCH 

Our  crown,  Majesty?  Is  it  not  on  our  head?  Our 
hair  is  so  golden  'tis  brighter  than  the  crown  itself. 

THE   QUEEN 

Give  us  the  crown. 

FILCH 

D'ye  mean,  Majesty,  there  lives  so  vile  a  villain 
that  he  would  poach  on  your  beauteous  preserves? 
And  so  excellently  preserved,  too! 

THE   QUEEN 

Return  the  crown,  and  Justice  shall  be  cheated  of 
its  rightful  prey. 

FILCH 

I  pray,  justice  or  injustice,  make  me  no  prey. 
Filch  is  an  honest  fellow.  May  I  eat  fennel  if  I  have 
the  crown  upon  me. 

[Holds  up  his  hands  and  turns  around.] 
THE   QUEEN 

Nay,  not  upon  you!  You  would  see  it  were  well 
hidden. 


86  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

FILCH 
[Pointing  to  the  crown,  where  it  had  rotted.} 

Here  is  my  crown,  Majesty.  Wear  it  till  your  own 
be  found. 

[Extends  it  to  her.] 
THE   QUEEN 

Your  crown,  wretch?  'Tis  mine!  [Seizes  it  and 
places  it  upon  her  head]  Now,  Elizabeth's  herself 
again. 

FILCH 

'Tis  a  most  unholy  wrong,  Majesty.  I  but  shortly 
refused  your  purse,  asking  for  no  more  than  one  golden 
crown.  May  the  artist  in  me  be  naught  but  thief 
an  you  did  not  say,  "  Take  it,  fellow,  and  welcome." 

THE   QUEEN 

You  mean — Oh,  rogue,  you'll  be  the  death  o'  me! 
So  much  of  sauce  have  you  added  to  my  day,  beshrew 
me  if  I  do  not  reward  your  diverting  villainies.  Accept 
our  purse. 

FILCH 

[Weighing  it  in  his  hands.] 

Another  purse !  A  fat  purse !  A  purse  with  a  paunch ! 
I  fear  me  I  shall  grow  purse-proud  in  time.  When  it 
comes  to  women,  Filch  likes  'em  thin — [bows  to  QUEEN] 
ay,  thin  almost  to  angles,  for  what  are  angles  but 
angels  with  their  1's  mixed — but  when  it  comes  to 
purses  Filch'll  angle  for  those  himself,  and  the  fatter 
the  better. 


ACT  III  87 

THE   QUEEN 

A  dance  in  the  moonlight  to  still  my  pulsing  feet! 
Then  will  Elizabeth  forsake  the  sweets  o'  the  forest 
for  the  sours  o'  the  town. 

[The  QUEEN,  her  LADY-IN-WAITING  and  the  four  MINSTRELS 
dance  a  gavotte.  FILCH  has  removed  his  tray,  placing  it 
beyond  the  knoll  out  of  sight,  and  has  thrown  himself  on  the 
ground.  He  watches  them  as  he  chews  a  twig.  Exeunt  the 
QUEEN  and  the  other  dancers.  FILCH  looks  about  in  frantic 
haste.  Bells  tinkle.  Enter  OBERON,  ROBIN,  and  the  PUCKS. 

OBERON 

What  seek  you  with  such  warmth,  mortal? 

FILCH 

O,  dear  Master  Fairy!  I  am  in  sore  trouble.  I 
seek  a  babe. 

OBERON 
What  manner  of  babe? 

FILCH 

A  wee  babe,  a  most  enchanting  babe,  with  skin  as 
bronzy  as  an  apple's  russet  coat. 

OBERON 
Rascal,  you  stole  him!    Tis  the  one  I  seek. 

FILCH 
Nay,  good  Sir,  you  mistake.     I  am  an  honest — 


88  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

OBERON 

Rogue.  An  honest  rogue  is  honest  only  when  he 
fulfils  his  rogueries. 

FILCH 

Marry,  rogue  I  may  be,  with  itching  palm  and 
prigging  finger,  yet  who  but  I  can  take  crowns  from 
queens'  heads,  babes  from  mothers'  arms,  shoes  from 
the  very  feet? 

OBERON 

Your  steps  have  led  you  within  the  fairy-ring. 
[Takes  off  his  plumed  cap  and  sweeps  the  air  with  it.] 
Dog  of  a  pedlar,  down  upon  all  fours,  and  from  every 
midnight  to  cock-crow,  go  thus  till  you  have  repented 
of  your  deeds. 

By  the  Circle's  mystic  trend, 
Down  upon  all  fours  descend. 

[FILCH  drops  to  his  hands  and  feet  and  barks.] 

You  have  a  strong  bark.  See  that  it  steer  you  into 
clearer  waters.  [ROBIN  consults  with  OBERON,  the 
PUCKS  gambol,  and  FILCH,  drawing  near  to  OBERON, 
takes  the  FAIRY  KING'S  cap  in  his  teeth,  and  unob- 
served, trots  up  stage  and  waits.]  Ho,  lads!  Let  us 
search  to  the  eastward. 

[Exeunt  OBERON,  ROBIN,  and  the  PUCKS,  right.     WILL  and 
BETSY,  with  the  baby,  come  out  of  hiding.] 

BETSY 

Look  you  about  for  a  morsel  of  food  for  this  poor 
manling.  I  vow  his  very  soul  is  agog  with  hunger. 


ACT  HI  89 

WILL 

I'll  see  what  the  Forest  will  yield.  If  milk  but  grew 
on  bushes! 

[Exit  WILL,  left.] 

BETSY 

[Laying  the  baby  near  the  knoll.[ 

Rest  you,  lambkin,  till  Betsy  make  herself  more 
leasing  to  the  eye.  I  am  roughed  and  blown  by  my 
wanderings. 

[Sits  on  the  knoll,  her  back  to  the  baby,  smoothing  her  hair  and  cos- 
tume. 

FILCH  stealthily  runs  forward,  seizes  the  baby  between  his  teeth, 
and  goes  off,  back.] 

You  are  a  precious  boy.  I  wish  I  could  ever  keep 
you  near  me.  [Turns  around;  rubs  her  eyes.}  Saints 
protect! — where  are  you?  Lambkin!  call  to  your 
Betsy.  [Looks  on  all  sides.]  'Tis  magic!  Has  the 
Witch  come  again?  Will,  O  Will!  where  are  you? 

[Exit  BETSY,  left. 
Tinkle  of  bells.    Enter  OBERON,  ROBIN,  and  the  PUCKS,  right.] 

OBERON 

There  is  virtue  in  this  spot  tonight.    The  soil  doth 
iw  my  feet  unerringly. 

ROBIN 
It  makes  me  light  o'  the  heels. 

[Stands  on  his  head.    Enter  left,  TITANIA  and  her  train.    She  is 
weeping  silently.] 


90  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

OBERON 

What  do  I  see — Titania  in  tears? 

TITANIA 

Ah,  Oberon,  my  heart  is  heavy! 

OBERON 
Heart,  say  you? 

TITANIA 

I  have  grown  a  heart  and  oh,  'tis  a  mother-heart. 
Verily,  my  mother-heart  is  breaking  for  a  sight  of  its 
babe. 

OBERON 

By  my  troth,  never  till  now  did  I  know  how  fondly 
you  have  wished  for  the  Indian  boy.  I  thought  it  but  a 
whimsey  to  cross  my  desire. 

TITANIA 

Nay,  I  am  heartsick. 

FAIRIES 

[Shaking  their  heads.] 
She  is  heartsick. 

TITANIA 

And  full  of  longing. 

FAIRIES 

Full  of  longing. 


ACT  III  91 

TITANIA 

Help  me,  Oberon. 

FAIRIES 

Yea,  help  her,  Oberon. 

OBERON 

By  the  pipe  of  Dawn  and  the  call  of  Dusk,  you  shall 
have  the  babe.  Is  it  not  so,  lads? 

ROBIN  and  PUCKS 
Ay,  ay,  sir! 

OBERON 
We  shall  seek  the  babe. 

ROBIN  and  PUCKS 
And  find  him! 

OBERON 

My  sweet  Queen,  he  shall  be  your  own,  no  one's  but 
yours. 

TITANIA 

Nay,  my  good  lord,  he  shall  be  both  yours  and  mine. 
[A  puff  of  smoke  and  the  WITCH  enters.] 

WITCH 

A  pretty  picture!  a  touching  picture!  The  Witch  of 
Wimble  is  warmed  to  her  marrow  by  scenes  of  loving 
reunion. 

OBERON 

What  would  you  of  us,  beldam? 


92  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

WITCH 

I  thought  you  might  like  to  know  where  to  seek  the 
bronze  babe. 

TITANIA 

My  heart  misdoubts  me.    Trust  her  not,  Oberon. 

ROBIN 

A  pippin  to  a  farthing  the  old  dame  hath  flap- 
dragoned  the  babe. 

WITCH 
Hush,  jackanapes! 

ROBIN  and  PUCKS 

[Circling  round  the  WITCH.] 

Flap-dragoned  the  babe!  flap-dragoned  the  babe! 

OBERON 

Cease  your  carousal.  Why  say  you  the  Witch  hath 
done  aught  to  the  child? 

ROBIN 

She  may  not  have  gulped  him  down  whole,  but  I'll 
wager  my  white  leather  jerkin  she  hath  guilty  knowl- 
edge of  him. 

WITCH 
The  goblin  spins  tales  out  o'  his  impish  fancies. 

OBERON 
Why  speak  you  thus,  Robin? 


ACT  III  93 

ROBIN 

She  stole  the  babe  from  our  Queen  to  give  to  me. 
Now  I  vow  she  steals  him  for  her  own  uses.  Think 
you  she  comes  here  for  good? 

TITANIA 

Give  me  my  babe! 

[The  PUCKS  and  FAIRIES  threateningly  surround  the  WITCH, 
OBERON  drawing  his  sword.  FILCH  trots  in,  rear,  unob- 
served, stops  up  stage  and  watches  the  scene.] 

WITCH 

Let  me  go  and  I  will  tell  you  who-  has  the  babe. 

OBERON 

[Lifting  his  sword.] 
Hark  you,  Fairies. 

WITCH 

I  have  not  the  babe  but  I  know  who  lias. 

ALL 

Who? 

WITCH 

A  graceless,  interfering  dullard,  called  Will.  [FILCH 
silently  shows  amusement]  He  and  the  wench,  Betsy, 
had  him  within  the  hour. 

TITANIA 
Trust  her  not;  but  a  short  while  since  she  deceived 


94  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

me.      The  weather-vane  within  me  points  to  foul 
weather. 

OBERON 

What  assurance  give  you  that  you  speak  in  good 
faith? 

WITCH 

By  the  old,  prophetical  law, 

By  the  hell-hound's  bloodless  paw, 

Tell  I  true  of  aU  I  saw. 

OBERON 

On  your  double  oath  then,  speak. 

WITCH 

Within  the  hour  the  babe  lay  near  yonder  knoll.  I 
sought  to  recover  him  for  you  when  the  madcap,  Will, 
drove  me  off.  The  wench  was  with  him.  'Tis  all  I 
know. 

OBERON 
It  is  enough.  We  will  have  vengeance  on  them. 

FAIRIES  and  PUCKS 
Vengeance. 

[Enter  WILL  and  BETSY,  left.    There  are  cries  of,  "They  come!" 
"The  lad!"  "The  wench!"  "WILL!"  "BETSY!"! 

WILL 

What  means  your  greeting?  It  hath  the  warmth  of 
a  simoon. 


ACT  III  95 

TITANIA 

Where  is  my  sweet  babe?  Why  took  you  my  treas- 
ure? 

WILL 

We  look  for  him  right  ardently  ourselves. 

BETSY 
That  we  may  restore  him  to  you. 

WITCH 
A  likely  tale! 

WILL 

[To  TITANIA.] 

We  have  sought  you  with  our  hearts  for  compass 
and,  now  we  find  you,  we  have  not  the  babe. 

TITANIA 

The  weather-vane  within  me  that  did  point  to 
"Foul"  for  the  Witch,  doth  point  to  "Fair"  for  these 
children. 

WITCH 

Believe  them  not.  I  tell  you  I  saw  this  lad  with  the 
babe,  on  this  very  spot.  Ask  him  if  'tis  true. 

OBERON 

Is  this  true? 

WILL 
I  had  him — 

WITCH 
Then  where  is  he  now? 


96  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

BETSY 

He  was  stolen  from  yonder  knoll  where  I  had  placed 
him. 

WILL 
I  was  in  quest  of  food  for  him. 

BETSY 
And  when  I  turned  to  take  the  babe,  he  was  gone. 

TITANIA 

I  believe  in  these  children.    The  Witch  is  at  fault. 

OBERON 

They  had  the  babe,  and  now  they  know  naught  of 
him.    The  children  are  to  blame. 

TITANIA 
Fairies,  seize  the  Witch! 

OBERON 
Pucks,  the  children! 

[There  is  a  rush  for  the  accused.    FILCH  barks  long  and  loud.    All 
pause  in  amazement.] 

OBERON 

[Drawing  his  sword.] 
That  rascal  here  again! 

WILL 
Pray  spare  him,  good  Oberon.    Pity  his  low  estate. 


ACT  III  97 

BETSY 

He  may  give  us  aid.  Poor  fellow,  perchance  to 
your  native  wit  hath  been  added  the  dog-gift  of  run- 
ning creatures  to  cover.  Find  the  dear  babe  and  if 
you  would  do  him  a  kindness  bring  him  hither.  He 
is  in  sore  need  of  a  mother. 

WILL 

Methinks  a  hungry  spirit  peers  through  the  case- 
ment of  his  eyes. 

[Exit  FILCH,  right.] 

OBERON 

Spiders  shall  weave  thick  cords  with  which  to  bind 
this  lad  and  lass  till  truth  has  been  plumbed  to  its 
sullen  deeps. 

TITANIA 

The  Witch  shall  be  surrounded  by  a  horde  of  circling 
bats.  Round  and  round  her  shall  they  swirl  and  hold 
her  captive  where  she  stands. 

WITCH 

Think  you  I  fear  your  legion  of  Sitter-mice?    I'll 
nip  your  charms  with  my  magic. 
Hoot!  hoot!  thou  owl  of  night. 

[She  listens,  but  the  winds  do  not  rush  at  her  bidding.] 
Hoot!  hoot!  thou  owl  of  night. 

[She  listens  again.    Stamps  in  a  passion  of  anger.] 
What  hath  drowned  your  voice,  ye  forces  of  the  air? 


98  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

TITANIA 

Thou  art  in  the  fairy-ring! 
Nevermore  for  deed  of  ill 
Shall  the  forces  work  thy  will. 

WITCH 

Nine  times  three  and  three  times  nine — 
Demons,  come  ye  forth  and  whine. 
Quench  the  moon  and  stars  that  shine. 

[She  looks  expectantly  about,  then  backs  away.] 
TITANIA 

Yea,  go;  I  will  not  hold  you  captive.  Your  poison 
hath  been  drained. 

[Exit  WITCH. 
Enter  FILCH  with  the  baby.   He  lays  him  gently  at  TITANIA'S  feet] 

BETSY 

The  babe! 

TITANIA 

[Embracing  the  baby] 

How  he  doth  fit  within  mine  arms!  Now  am  I 
right  glad  of  a  heart.  'Tis  a  pillow  for  his  head.  I 
would  thank  you,  friend,  for  bringing  me  my  happiness. 

OBERON 
[Touching  FILCH  with  his  sword] 

By  the  grace  that  filleth  thee, 
Stand  thou  upright  as  the  tree. 

[FILCH  stands] 


ACT  III  99 

TITANIA 

For  a  tiny  soul-space,  hold  you  the  babe. 
[She  gives  him  to  FILCH.] 

FILCH 

First  I  took  him  for  love  o'  the  game.  Next,  I  took 
him  for  love  o'  the  boy.  But  'tis  a  mother's  arms  you 
need,  bronzy  bird,  though  you  have  made  a  nest  of 
Filch's  heart. 

[He  gives  the  baby  to  TITANIA  and  lifts  his  tray  from  behind  the 
knoll,  dexterously  taking  OBERON'S  sword  as  he  leaves.  He 
calls  lustily.] 

Come  buy  of  Filch, 
Come  buy  of  Filch, 
Come  buy  of  Filch,  the  Pedlar. 

[Exit  FILCH.] 
OBERON 

Our  thanks,  lad  and  lass,  for  your  courage.  Lass, 
next  May-day  come  you  here  at  dawn,  and  if  you 
drink  the  drop  of  dew  in  the  first  mary-bud  you 
spy,  the  wish  dearest  your  heart  shall  come  true. 

BETSY 
[Joyously.] 
I  know  what  I  shall  wish! 

TITANIA 

And,  lad,  now  that  I  have  a  heart  I  can  read  yours. 


ioo  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

You  shall  dream  and  make  others  dream.    On  your 
own  hearthstone  shall  you  find  your  fate. 
[WILL  and  BETSY  stand  aside.    TITANIA  with  her  baby,  OBERON, 
and  all  the  members  of  their  band,  slowly  sway  in  the  moon- 
light, singing  a  lullaby.] 

FAIRIES 

Flame  of  night,  thou  nightingale, 
Flush  with  song  the  forest  trail. 
Busy  spider,  whir  thy  loom 
To  the  lilt  of  cherry  bloom., 

East  and  West, 

Chant  thy  best, 

Fill  with  joy 

This,  our  boy. 

Moon,  when  thou  to  cradle  shrink, 
Bid  the  babe  serenely  sink 
In  thy  silver  deeps  to  dream 
Thoughts  as  chaste  as  candle-gleam. 

Undefiled 

Is  our  child. 

Tarry  near, 

Hold  him  dear. 

Fairies,  swaying  to  and  fro, 
Teach  the  babe  our  spells  to  know, 
And  with  torch  of  daffodil 
Drive  away  the  midnight's  chill. 

North  and  South, 

Kiss  his  mouth, 

Beam  with  joy 

On  our  boy. 

CURTAIN 


EPILOGUE 

SCENE  :  Tfo  Kitchen  on  New  Year's  morning. 

WILL  is  fast  asleep  on  the  hearthstone.     The  fire  and 

candles  have  burned  out. 
Enter  MISTRESS  SHAKESPEARE,  who  pauses  amazed  at 

the  sight  of  her  boy.    She  tries  tenderly  to  rouse  him. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Wake  you  up,  laddie.  [WILL  stirs  but  does  not 
waken.}  Oh,  Will,  my  precious  dreamer,  why  did  you 
not  get  into  your  bed?  Wake  you  up!  Wake  you  up! 

[He  slowly  rises.} 
WILL 

Where  am  I? 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

In  your  home — where  else  of  an  early  New  Year's 
morning? 

WILL 

'Tis  not  New  Year's — 'tis  May-time.  I  was  in  the 
Forest.  How  came  I  here?  I  must  be  dreaming. 

[Rubs  his  eyes.] 
MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Dreaming,  my  dearest?  You  have  been  making 
dreams,  but  now  you  wake. 


102  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 


My  sword! 


WILL 

[Looking  at  his  side.] 


MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

[Smiling.] 
What  of  your  sword,  lad? 

WILL 
It  is  vanished! 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

I  fear  you'll  have  sore  search  finding  it. 

WILL 

[Running  to  the  table.] 
It  has  changed  back  to  a  knife. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

My  poor  head  feels  as  hollow  as  a  deaf-nut.    May- 
hap I'm  the  one  who  dreams! 

WILL 

[Looking  within  the  churn.] 
How  comes  it  to  be  empty? 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

I'll  not  fill  it  till  time  for  the  churning. 

WILL 
What  did  you  with  the  butter? 


EPILOGUE  103 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Butter? 

WILL 

'Twill  not  be  fit  to  use.    A  babe  was  in  it. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

A  babe  in  the  butter?    Oh,  Will!    Will! 

WILL 
[Going  to  the  pot  and  gazing  within.] 

I  thought  the  Wimble  Witch  might  have  left  a  hot 
coal  like  a  devil's  eye,  burning  in  the  bottom. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

The  Wimble  Witch!— 'twill  not  do.  You  must 
wake  up.  [Takes  him  to  the  window.]  Look  out  and 
see  Henley  Street  of  a  wintry  morning. 

WILL 
[Looking  out  and  turning  in  bewilderment] 

Did  not  the  dumb  pedlar  come  to  life?  Did  not 
Betsy  turn  shepherdess?  And  Titania  get  the  Indian 
boy?  And — oh,  Mother!  did  I  not  fight  a  duel  with 
Sir  Thomas  and  drive  him  forth  at  a  merry  pace? 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Nay,  lad,  nay!    'Twas  but  a  dream. 

WILL 
I  tell  you,  it  was  true. 


104  MASTER  WILL  OF  STRATFORD 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Nay,  lad. 

[The  face  of  the  pedlar,  again  dumb  and  stolid,  peers  through  the 
window  for  a  few  moments,  then  disappears.} 

WILL 

'Twas  truer  than  this  room — than  Henley  Street 
I  just  now  looked  upon.  I  see  it,  hear  it,  yea,  believe 
it.  They  came  here — Robin,  the  Witch,  the  little 
Titania,  Filch, — How  prove  you  'twas  a  dream? 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

I  cannot  prove  it,  lad,  yet  neither  can  you  to  me 
give  proof.  The  testimony  of  all  the  years  shows  that 
some  things  are  and  other  things  are  not. 

WILL 

Then  shall  I  ever  bear  in  mind  my  dreams, 

And  one  day  tune  men's  vision  to  my  key. 

Ah,  music  in  one's  dream  hath  sorcery 

To  woo  the  spirit  to  its  tallest  reach. 

And  laughter — how  it  riots  to  the  brim 

And  tumbles  over  in  a  rainbow  spray! 

Each  tear  becomes  a  rounded  crystal  world, 

With  pictured  pathos  in  its  curved  sides. 

In  waking  do  our  joyance  and  our  tears 

And  fine-wove  mesh  of  music,  stir  us  thus? 

Our  very  lives  are  fabric  of  our  dreams. 

Then  who  dare  say  which  be  the  realm  of  truth — 

Our  dreaming  or  our  waking? 


EPILOGUE  105 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

I  cannot  keep  in  step  with  you,  my  boy,  yet  do  I 
try  to  follow  where  you  lead. 

WILL 

Titania  said  I'd  find  my  fate  at  home, 
Yea,  here  at  home,  upon  our  very  hearth ! 

[MISTRESS  SHAKESPEARE  goes  to  the  fireplace.] 

I  almost  fear  to  look;  if  'tis  not  there 
Perchance  'tis  true  a  dream  be  but  a  dream. 
She  said  'twould  be  at  home — on  mine  own  hearth! 

[Slowly  turns.    He  stoops  and  gives  a  cry.} 
Behold  'tis  here!  my  fate! 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

What  mean  you,  lad? 

WILL 

[Holding  out  a  feather.] 

A  pheasant  quill — the  pen  with  which  to  write 
The  stories  in  men's  eyes,  the  songs  that  sing 
For  very  joy  of  singing,  all  the  dreams 
That  lap  me  'round  with  shining  witchery. 

MISTRESS   SHAKESPEARE 

Why,  laddie,  there  are  teardrops  in  your  eyes! 
Mayhap  a  spinner,  glum  and  overworked,  hath  nipped 
your  guiltless  finger.  Let  me  see. 

WILL 

Ah,  Mother, — 'tis  not  pain  that  starts  my  tears — 
CURTAIN 


GLOSSARY 

(W)  =  Warwickshire  dialect. 

A 

Addlepate  =  one  of  dull  wit. 

Afore  =  before. 

Ah-yea  (W)=yes. 

Alack;  alackaday  =  an  exclamation  of  regret  or  sorrow. 

An -if. 

Anigh  (W)  =  near. 

Anointed  (W)  =  innocently  mischievous. 

Apple-John  (W)  =  a  kind  of  apple  that  keeps  a  long 

time  but  becomes  withered. 
Aught  =  anything. 
Ay  =  yes. 

B 

Bantling  =  a  young  child;  an  inexperienced  youth. 

Baubles  =  trinkets;  gewgaws. 

Bedlam  =  Bethlehem  Hospital,  or  Bedlam,  became  an 

asylum  for  the  insane  in  1547. 
Bedlam  =  a  madman. 
Beldam  =  a  hag;  a  witch. 
Belike = probably. 
Bent  =  inclination. 
Bergamo  =  a  town  in  the  Venetian  territory,  capital  of 

the  old  province,  Bergamasco,  whose  inhabitants 

used  to  be  ridiculed  as  clownish. 
107 


io8  GLOSSARY 

Beshrew  me  1          -urn 

Beshrew  my  heart  j  =  evi1  bef a11  me !  PlaSue  on  me ! 

Biggen  (W)  =  a  cap ;  especially  a  child's  cap. 

Bittock  (W)=  morsel. 

Bits  and  bobs  (W)  =  odds  and  ends. 

Boiled  brain  =  a  hot-headed  fellow. 

Bonnie  =  comely. 

Bootless  =  una vailing;  useless. 

Brave  =  fme;  a  general  term  of  admiration  or  praise. 

Brawl  =  a  noisy  quarrel. 

Brawling  =  clamorous. 

Bumpkin  =  an  awkward  rustic. 

By  my  troth  =  by  my  faith;  by  my  truth. 

C 

Cade  (W)  =  gentle;  mild. 

Call  (W)  =  cause;  reason. 

Carbonadoed  =  hacked  or  slashed,  as  meat  prepared 
for  the  gridiron. 

Caunt  (W)  =  can  not. 

Certes  =  certainly;  of  a  truth. 

Changeling  =  something  substituted  for  another;  com- 
monly used  in  the  sense  of  one  child  substituted 
for  another. 

Charlecote  =  home  of  Sir  Thomas  Lucy,  about  four 
miles  east  of  Stratford. 

Chatterpie  (W)  =  chatterbox. 

Chine  of  pork  =  the  back  and  loin  of  pork,  commonly 
stuffed  and  flavored  with  a  few  leaves  of  aro- 
matic bay.  Especially  served  at  the  yearly 
festival  of  "The  Mothering." 

"The  lad  and  lass  on  Mothering  Day, 
Hie  home  to  their  Mother  so  dear; 


GLOSSARY  109 

'Tis  a  kiss  for  she  and  a  kiss  for  they, 
A  chine  of  pork  and  a  sprig  of  bay, 
A  song  and  dance — but  never  a  tear." 

Chuck  =  a  familiar  term  of  endearment. 

Chuff  =  churl;  boor. 

Collop  =  part  of  one's  flesh. 

Colt  =  a  frisky  youngster. 

Constant  (W)  =  always. 

Cossets  =  fondles;  pets. 

Couldna  (W)  =  could  not. 

Criss-cross-row  =  the  alphabet.  In  horn-books,  the 
primers  of  early  days,  the  letters  were  arranged 
to  form  a  Latin  cross,  A  at  the  top,  Z  at  the  bot- 
tom. This  was  succeeded  by  the  line  form, 
crosses  being  placed  at  the  beginning  of  the  line; 
in  consequence  the  alphabet  was  often  referred 
to  as  "Christ-cross-row,"  " Chriss-cross-row,"  or 
"Criss-cross-row." 

Crown  =  an  English  coin  of  the  value  of  five  shillings. 
Originally  it  was  of  gold,  and  was  first  coined  in 
the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.     Since  the  reign  of 
Charles  II.  it  has  been  minted  in  silver  only. 

D 

Dab  (W)  =  a  small  portion  of  anything. 

Dabster  (W)  =  an  expert. 

D  alliance  =  idle  behavior;  dilatoriness. 

Deaf -nut  (W)  =a  hollow  nut;  a  nut  without  a  kernel. 

Didna  (W)=did  not. 

Dilling  =  a  darling;  a  pet,  especially  a  child  born  to  an 

aged  father. 
Doant  (W)=  don't. 


HO  GLOSSARY 

Doctor's  stuff  (W)  =  medicine;  a  remedy  or  potion. 

Dollop  (W)  =  a  large  portion  of  anything. 

Dolt  =  blockhead;  dunce. 

Donna  (W)  =do  not. 

Doublet  =  a  close-fitting  outer  body-garment,  usually 
with  sleeves,  and  sometimes  with  short  skirts 
and  belted  at  the  waist.  It  came  into  use  toward 
the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century  and  was  worn 
by  men  until  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth 
century. 

Dunch-dumpling  (W)  =  a  pudding  made  of  flour  and 
water  and  eaten  with  salt. 

Dullard  =  a  stupid  person;  dolt. 

Den  =  even;  evening. 

E 

Eggs  for  money,  (to  take)  =  to  be  put  off  with  some- 
thing worthless. 
Eke  =  likewise;  also. 


Fain  =  earnestly  desire. 

Fell  =  melancholy. 

Fennel  =  an  "inflammatory  herb;"  it  is  aromatic  and 
called  by  the  old  writers,  "hot  in  the  third  de- 
gree." 

Fie  =  shame  upon  you. 

Flap-dragon  =  to  seize  and  swallow,  as  in  the  game  of 
flap-dragon  (a  game  in  which  raisins  and  other 
edibles  are  snatched  by  the  players  out  of  burning 
spirits  and  swallowed.) 

Flitter-mice  =  an  old  name  for  bats. 


GLOSSARY  in 

Forest  of  Arden  =  a  forest  lying  to  the  west  and  north 
of  Stratford.  Villages  and  farmsteads  were  in 
clearings,  and  the  Forest  included  a  vast  acreage. 

Forewearied  (W)  =  exhausted. 

Forsooth  =  in  truth;  certainly. 

G 

Gapes = persons  staring  with  open  mouths. 
Gewgaws  =  gaudy  trifles;  baubles;  trinkets. 
Giddy-pate  =  a  scatter-brain. 
God  buy  ye  =  God  be  with  you  (now  contracted  to 

"good-bye"). 

Golden  Lion  =  a  tavern  in  Stratford. 
Good  den  =  good  even ;  good  evening. 
Good  e'en  =  good  even;  good  evening. 
Guffaws  =  shouts  of  boisterous  laughter. 

H 

Hap  =  happen. 

Happed  =  happened. 

Hedgehog    (W)  =  a    term    of    reproach,    commonly 

applied  to  boys. 
Henchman  =  a  male  attendant. 
Hipped  =  derived  from  "on  the  hip,"  a  term  used  in 

wrestling. 

I 

I'  faith  =  in  faith. 

Inchling  (newly  coined)  =  one  who  is  very  diminutive. 
Isna  (W)  =  is  not. 

J 

Jason  =  leader  of  the  Argonauts.  He  won  the  sacred 
golden  fleece  by  slaying  the  sleepless  dragon  that 
guarded  it. 


112  GLOSSARY 


Jog  =  a  slow  trot. 

Jog  =  nudge. 

Jerkin  =  a  jacket,  short  coat,  or  upper  doublet. 

Joyance  =  joy. 


Ken  =  know. 


Lady-smocks  =  cuckoo-flowers. 

Lated  (W)  =  belated. 

Leather-coats  (W)  =  russet  apples. 

Lob  =  a  lout;  a  country  bumpkin. 

Loggerheads  (at  loggerheads)  =  to  be  engaged  in  a 
dispute  or  quarrel. 

Longful  (W)  =  anxious. 

Luces  =  pike.  Sir  Thomas  Lucy's  coat-of-arms  bore 
three  silver  luces,  or  pike.  In  "  Merry  Wives"  the 
dozen  white  luces  on  the  coat-of-arms  of  Justice 
Shallow  become  in  the  mouth  of  Sir  Hugh  Evans, 
a  Welchman,  "a  dozen  white  louses." 

Lucy  (Sir  Thomas)  =  a  Warwickshire  squire,  supposed 
to  have  prosecuted  Shakespeare  sternly  when  the 
latter  was  about  twenty-one,  for  deer-raiding  in 
his  park. 

Luddington  =  a  hamlet  about  three  miles  south-west 
of  Stratford. 

Lusty  limb  =  a  robust,  roguish  youngster. 


M 

Madcaps  =  those  who  are  rash  or  giddy. 
Manikin  =  a  little  man;  a  pygmy. 


GLOSSARY  113 

March-chick  =  a  precocious  youth. 

Marry  =  an  exclamation  of  surprise. 

Marry  come  up  =  hoity-toity. 

Mary-bud  =  the  bud  of  a  marigold. 

Maut  (W)  =  might  (imp.  of  may). 

Mayhap  =  perhaps. 

Mekin'  ( W)  =  making. 

Merrybone  =  marrow  bone. 

Mesel'  (W)=  myself. 

Mewling  =  the  crying  of  an  infant;  squalling. 

Mill-sixpence  =  English  coin  struck  during  a  period  of 

fifteen  years  from  1561  to  1575,  in  comparatively 

small  numbers. 

Monstrous  =  very ;  exceedingly. 
Morris-dance  =  name  given  to  dances  on  May-day, 

etc.,  in  which  various  personages  were  represented. 

(See  descriptive  note,  post.) 
Mortal    (W)=  extremely;    extensively   used    by    the 

rustic  to  indicate  the  extreme  in  anything. 
Mountebank  =  a  charlatan;  a  boastful  pretender. 
Mun  (W)=must. 

N 

Na  (W)=not. 

Na  (W)  =  not,  used  as  a  suffix,  as  in  hadna  (had  not) . 
Nabbing  =  catching,  or  seizing  suddenly. 
Noddle  =  contemptuous  term  for  head. 


O'  =  of. 
On  =  of. 

O6t  (W)=  would  you? 


114  GLOSSARY 


Pater-noster  =  the  Lord's  prayer. 

Perforce  =  necessarily. 

Pick  thanks  (W)=a  captious  person;  a  faultfinder. 

Pikelet  (W)  =  cake;  a  small  cake. 

Pikeshead  =  Sir    Thomas   Lucy's    coat-of-arms   bore 

three  silver  luces,  or  pike;  hence  the  epithet, 

pikeshead. 
Pilfer  =  filch;  steal. 
Pinny  (W)  =  pinafore;  apron. 
Pother  =  turmoil;  uproar. 
Prank  =  deck  gaudily. 
Prate  =  talk  vainly  and  foolishly;  boast  idly. 
Prigging  =  thieving. 
Prithee  =  I  pray  thee. 
Purse-proud  =  puffed  up  by  the  possession  of  riches. 

Q 

Quillets  =  clever  or  witty  turns  or  conceits. 
Quips  =  verbal  niceties;  subtle  distinctions. 
Quiring  =  choiring ;  singing. 

R 

Recklin  (W)  =  a  child ;  a  small  child. 
Ring  a  ring  a  rosie  =  a  very  old  round. 


Sanctus  =  a  street  in  the  western  part  of  Stratford. 
Scape-gallows  =  one  who  has  escaped  hanging,  though 

deserving  it. 

Scraily  (W)  =  attenuated;  thin. 
Scrattle  (W)  =  scratch. 


GLOSSARY  115 

Scrumps  =  a  small,  sweet  variety  of  apple. 

Set  my  ten  commandments  in  his  face  =  an  old  War- 
wickshire expression,  meaning  to  scratch  the  face 
of  another  with  all  one's  fingers. 

Shilling  =  a  silver  coin  originally  issued  by  Henry  VII. 
In  1560  it  was  one-sixtieth  of  a  troy  pound  of 
silver. 

Shive  o'  summat  (W)  =  slice  of  something. 

Shoodna  (W)  =  should  not. 

Simoon  (also,  simoom)  =  a  hot,  dry  wind  of  the  desert. 

Sin'  (W)  =  since. 

Slacken- twist  (W)  =  a  dawdler. 

Slop  (W)  =  a  coat,  short  coat. 

Sly-boots  =  a  roguish,  cunning,  sly  person. 

Smudge  (W)  =  kiss. 

Sourings  (W)  =  winter  apples. 

Spot  (W)  =  a  morsel.  A  spot  is  a  lesser  portion  than  a 
skurrock,  and  a  skurrock  smaller  than  a  bittock, 
in  Warwickshire  dialect. 

Spanking  =  swift,  dashing. 

Spinner  =  spider. 

Strides  (W)  =  trousers. 

Stagger-bob   (W)  =  calf. 


Threefold  Diana  =  the  goddess  presided  in  three 
capacities,  as  Cynthia  or  Luna  in  heaven,  Diana 
on  earth,  and  Hecate  in  hell. 

Tidbit  =  a  dainty. 

Tiddington  Road  =  a  road  leading  from  Stratford, 
south  of  the  Avon  to  Charlecote. 

Tittle  =  the  minutest  quantity;  a  jot;  an  iota. 

Top-full  =  brimming. 


n6  GLOSSARY 

Tot  (W)  =a  mug  (especially  a  small  mug). 

T'others  =  contraction  of  the  others. 

Town  Cage  =  the  Stratford  prison. 

Trunks  (or  trunk  hose)  =  a  kind  of  full  breeches  ex- 
tending from  the  waist  to  the  middle  of  the  thigh, 
worn  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries. 

Tyburn  =  the  site  of  the  Middlesex  gallows.  The 
gallows  was  called  Tyburn  Tree.  Tyburn  was  a 
place  of  execution  as  early  as  the  end  of  the 
twelfth  century,  and  so  continued  until  1783. 

U 

'Ud  (W)=  would. 

Upshot  =  the  final  outcome  or  result. 

Urchin  (W)  =  a  term  of  reproach  for  a  boy. 

W 

Wag  =  a  droll  fellow  who  says  witty  or  humorous 
things. 

Waggish  =  droll. 

War  (W)=was. 

Wassail  (Old  English,  Waes-hal,  meaning,  be  well)  = 
a  spiced  drink,  commonly  used  on  occasions  of 
festivity  or  hilarity.  What  was  popularly  known 
as  wassailing  was  the  custom  of  trimming  with 
ribbons  and  sprigs  of  rosemary  a  bowl  which  was 
carried  around  the  streets  by  young  girls  singing 
carols  at  Christmas  and  New  Year's.  This 
ancient  custom  still  survives  in  various  parts  of 
England. 

Wench  =  a  girl;  a  young  woman. 

Whut  (W)=what. 

Wight  =  elf;  hobgoblin. 


GLOSSARY  117 

Wot  (third  person,  sing,  of  wit)  =  knows. 
Wotna  (W)  =  would  not. 

Y 

Yea  =  yes. 

Yed  (W)  =  head.     (M'yed  =  my  head.) 

Yent  (W)=is  not. 

Yond  (W  and  all  English  dialects)  =  yonder. 

Youngling  =  a  youngster. 


NOTES 

Titania,  Oberon  and  Robin  Goodfellow  were  re-created  in 
A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

"Titania"  (taken  from  Ovid,  Metamorphoses  iv.,  346,  or 
(id.)  iii.,  173,  where  the  name  is  applied  to  Diana),  evidences 
the  belief  current  at  the  time  that  the  fairies  were  identical 
with  the  classical  nymphs,  and  that  Diana  was  their  queen. 
Titania's  more  popular  title  was  Queen  Mab.  (Vide  Collancz' 
Preface  to  the  play  in  the  Temple  Edition;  Herford's  Preface 
in  the  Eversley  Edition.) 

"Oberon"  may  be  traced  to  the  dwarf  of  that  name  in  the 
Charlemagne  romance,  Huon  of  Bordeaux,  translated  from  the 
French  by  Lord  Berners  about  1534  to  1540. 

"Robin  Goodfellow"  is  an  English  name  for  the  mischief 
loving  "Puck;"  the  latter  probably  of  Celtic  origin,  but  found 
in  English  prior  to  the  Conquest,  and  early  in  Scandinavian 
and  other  dialects.  The  German  equivalent  of  "Robin  Good- 
fellow"  is  "Knecht  Ruprecht."  (Vide  Collancz,  supra.) 

The  little  Indian  boy  is  the  cause  of  dispute  between  Titania 
and  Oberon  hi  the  Shakespeare  play. 

PROLOGUE 

Page  8.  My  heart  is  built  in  the  shape  of  a  W:  During  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth,  out  of  compliment  to  the  Queen,  many 
houses,  including  Charlecote,  were  built  in  the  shape  of  an  E. 
The  plan  derives  its  name  from  three  projecting  entrances  in 
the  facade,  each  provided  with  a  porch.  These  gave  the  ground 
plan  the  shape  of  an  E,  with  stubby  arms. 

Page  9.  There's  fell  need  for  the  perfumer:  In  Elizabethan 
times  rushes  were  strewn  upon  the  floors.  When  it  was  nec- 
essary to  re-rush  a  room,  fresh  ones  were  deposited  upon  the 
old.  "And  a  room  was  not  always  purged  of  its  rushes 

119 


120  NOTES 

more  than  once  a  year.  The  result  was  filth,  more  or  less  ab- 
sent to  the  eye,  but  present  to  the  nose.  The  latter  condition 
gave  rise  to  a  whole  profession,  as  necessary  and  as  distinctive 
as  that  of  the  chimney  sweep;  namely,  the  perfumer.  It  was 
his  business  to  come,  when  a  room  had  grown  too  foul  to  live 
in,  in  order  to  remove  the  stench  by  burning  juniper  wood  and 
other  sweet  smelling  herbs.  Vermin  flourished  under  such 
conditions,  and  many  are  the  allusions  that  could  be  cited  re- 
ferring even  to  royal  visits,  from  which  persons  returned  bitten 
from  head  to  foot."  (From  Henry  Thew  Stephenson's  The 
Elizabethan  People.) 

Page  13.  I  relished  the  sight  of  our  Queen  at  Kenilworth  last 
July:  At  Kenilworth  Castle,  which  is  about  fifteen  miles  from 
Stratford,  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  in  July  of  1575,  entertained 
Queen  Elizabeth  and  devised  pageantry  and  splendid  cere- 
monies in  her  honor.  Scott  has  recorded  its  brilliancies  in  his 
novel,  Kenilworth. 

Page  23.  Sir  Thomas  Hunt  is  thought  to  have  been  Shake- 
speare's master  at  Grammar  School  from  1572  to  1577,  and,  if 
so,  he  doubtless  contributed  greatly  to  the  development  of  the 
poet's  mind.  He  was  a  man  of  erudition.  His  title  was  given 
him  in  accordance  with  the  custom  of  the  times  to  bestow  titles 
upon  schoolmasters  of  note. 

Page  24.  In  1575,  Richard,  Anna,  Joan  and  Gilbert  Shake- 
speare were  one,  four,  six  and  nine  years  of  age,  respectively. 

Page  25.  Witches  and  their  tailless  kind:  Tradition  held  that 
witches,  though  able  at  will  to  assume  the  form  of  any  animal, 
had  to  dispense  with  the  tail.  The  lack  of  it  was  frequently 
the  cause  of  detection  of  witches  in  their  disguised  forms. 

ACT  I 

Page  41.  My  bonnie  beard:  The  beard  was  a  well  known 
characteristic  of  witches. 

ACT  II 

Page  51.  May-day  dew  was  used  as  a  beautifier  of  the  com- 
plexion. The  young  people  went  a-Maying,  rubbing  their 


NOTES  121 

cheeks  with  early  dew  to  secure  fresh  coloring  for  the  ensuing 
year.  Samuel  Pepys,  in  his  Diary,  says: 

"My  wife  away  to  Woolwich  in  order  to  a  little  ayre,  and  to 
lie  there  tonight,  and  so  to  gather  May-dew  tomorrow  morning, 
which  Mrs.  Turner  hath  taught  her  is  the  only  thing  in  the 
world  to  wash  her  face  with." 

Page  55.  May  all  my  teeth  be  strung  on  lute  strings,  etc.: 
Lutes  were  the  favored  instruments  to  accompany  singing. 
Every  barber  shop  had  lutes  and  zitterns  for  the  entertainment 
of  those  patrons  who  were  obliged  to  wait.  Barbers  of  those 
times  were  usually  minor  surgeons,  their  most  important  and 
frequent  operation  being  the  drawing  of  teeth.  They  tied 
the  extracted  teeth  on  lute  strings  and  displayed  them  in  front 
of  their  shops  as  signs.  To  this  day,  in  a  somewhat  changed 
form,  the  custom  survives  in  London. 

THE    MORRIS-DANCE 

Page  61.  The  following  description  of  the  old  morris-dance  is 
paraphrased  from  that  of  Strutt,  the  antiquarian,  found  in  his 
romance,  Queenhoo-Hall  (vol.  I.,  p.  13,  et  seq.}: 

First  enter  Friar  Tuck  (as  indicated  in  the  text  of  this  play), 
then  enter: 

Six  young  men,  as  woodmen,  clothed  in  brown,  axes  upon 
their  shoulders,  and  garlands  of  ivy  leaves  about  their  heads; 

Six  girls,  as  milk  maidens,  in  blue  kirtles,  bearing  shining 
pails; 

Six  foresters,  in  green,  each  carrying  a  bugle-horn  which 
he  sounds  as  he  enters; 

Robin  Hood,  in  a  bright  green  tunic,  gold-fringed,  with  blue 
and  white  hose  and  hood,  a  bugle-horn,  a  sword  and  dagger, 
a  bent  bow  in  his  hand,  arrows  at  his  girdle  and  a  garland  of 
rose-buds  on  his  head; 

Little  John  at  Robin  Hood's  right  hand; 

Will  Stukely  at  Robin  Hood's  left; 

Ten  other  attendants  of  Robin  Hood,  who,  together  with 
Little  John  and  Will  Stukely,  are  clad  in  green,  with  bows  in 
their  hands  and  arrows  in  their  girdles; 


122  NOTES 

Two  maidens  in  orange-colored  kirtles  with  white  courtpies 
(short  vests),  strewing  flowers; 

Maid  Marian  in  a  watchet-colored  (light  blue)  tunic  reaching 
to  the  ground,  over  which  is  a  white  rochet  (a  linen  outer  gar- 
ment), loose-sleeved,  with  silver  fringes,  a  cloth  of  silver  girdle 
having  a  double  bow  at  the  left,  her  fair  long  hair  flowing, 
topped  by  a  net  of  gold  upon  which  is  a  garland  of  silver  and 
violets.  She  is  supported  by 

Two  brides-maidens  in  light  blue  rochets  with  crimson  girdles, 
garlands  of  blue  and  white  violets  upon  their  heads; 

Four  maidens  in  white  costumes,  with  green  courtpies,  and 
garlands  of  violets  and  cowslips; 

The  Fool  bearing  a  pole  with  an  inflated  bladder  on  one  end; 

The  May-pole  borne  by  eight  youths; 

The  Hobby-Horse  and  The  Dragon  bringing  up  the  rear. 

Attached  to  the  wrists,  elbows  and  ankles  of  the  dancers 
are  bells  of  varying  sizes  and  tones. 

With  the  appearance  of  the  May-pole  the  foresters  sound 
their  horns  and  the  spectators  cheer  while  the  pole  is  being 
elevated.  The  woodmen  and  the  milk  maidens  dance  around 
it  in  rustic  fashion  to  the  music  of  pipe  and  tabour.  At  the 
conclusion  of  the  dance,  the  one  who  undertakes  to  play  the 
Hobby-horse  comes  forward  with  his  appropriate  equipment, 
frisking  back  and  forth,  galloping,  curvetting,  ambling,  trotting, 
to  the  delight  of  the  spectators.  He  is  followed  by  the  Dragon, 
hissing,  roaring  and  shaking  his  wings  with  astonishing  in- 
genuity. To  round  out  the  mirth,  the  Fool  capers  here  and 
there  between  the  two  monsters,  now  and  then  slyly  casting 
handfuls  of  meal  into  the  faces  of  the  gaping  rustics,  or  rapping 
them  upon  their  heads  with  the  bladder.  The  Hobby-horse  at 
last  begins  to  falter  in  his  paces,  and  his  rider  orders  the  Dragon 
to  fall  back;  the  well-nurtured  beast,  being  out  of  breath, 
readily  obeys,  which  concludes  this  part  of  the  pastime. 

Concerning  the  Hobby-horse  and  the  Dragon,  Stephenson 
gives  Drake  as  authority  for  saying  that  the  Hobby-horse 
consists  of  the  head  and  tail  of  a  horse  made  of  paste-board 
and  attached  to  a  person  whose  business  it  is.  while  seeming  to 


NOTES  123 

ride  gracefully  on  the  back  of  the  animal,  to  imitate  its  curvet- 
tings  and  prancings,  the  horse's  supposed  feet  being  concealed 
by  a  footcloth  reaching  to  the  ground.  The  Dragon,  constructed 
of  the  same  materials  as  the  horse,  is  made  to  hiss  and  vibrate 
its  wings,  and  is  subject  to  frequent  attacks  by  the  man  on  the 
Hobby-horse,  who  then  personates  the  character  of  St.  George. 

The  dance  above  outlined  is  but  one  of  many  morris-dances. 
One  of  the  simpler  forms  may  be  substituted  for  that  described 
above,  or  the  number  of  performers  may  be  reduced  as  cir- 
cumstances require.  One  of  the  old  morris-dance  tunes 
should  be  used. 

For  an  extended  discussion  of  the  morris-dance  see  The 
Morris  Book  by  Cecil  J.  Sharp  and  Herbert  C.  Macllwaine, 
Novello  &  Co.,  London,  1912,  and  the  companion  work  by 
the  same  authors,  entitled,  Morris  Dance  Tunes. 

The  Drama  League  of  America  has  issued  a  pamphlet  on 
old  folk  dances,  including  morris-dances,  with  suggestions  as 
to  the  music.  This  pamphlet  may  be  secured  for  ten  cents  at 
the  League's  headquarters,  Marquette  Building,  Chicago. 

ACT  III 

Page  79.  A  bowl  of  clear  water:  Well-wishing  fairies  were 
likely  to  be  attracted  by  a  clean  room  and  a  bowl  of  clear  water. 

Page  80.  The  White  Witch  finds  lost  things:  A  White  Witch 
was  a  kind  of  novice,  indulging  in  insignificant  witcheries. 
These  witches  were  regarded  as  harmless,  often  living  among 
their  neighbors  in  the  friendliest  relations.  "They  told  for- 
tunes, exercised  the  arts  and  practices  of  palmistry  and  ele- 
mentary astrology,  dealt  out  simples  for  a  substantial  con- 
sideration, cast  waters  and  furnished  love  potions  to  distressed 
and  disappointed  youths  and  maidens.  We  learn  from  The 
Wise  Woman  of  Hogsden  a  list  of  the  notable  White  Witches 
then  in  fashion.  .  .  .  Mother  Hatfield  in  Pepper  Alley  was 
useful  in  finding  lost  things,  a  task  in  the  performance  of  which 
she  was  especially  famous."  (From  The  Elizabethan  People.) 

Page  81.  'Tis  a  potent  charm  for  routing  witches:  Witches 


124  NOTES 

were  exorcised  by  charms,  frequently  made  of  a  senseless  suc- 
cession of  syllables,  or  of  sentences,  said  backward.  The  Lord's 
Prayer,  recited  thus,  was  considered  peculiarly  efficacious. 

Page  88.  Your  steps  have  led  you  within  the  fairy-ring:  A  little 
circle  in  the  grass  of  a  brighter  green,  within  which  the  fairy 
folk  danced  by  night,  was  called  a  fairy-ring.  It  was  held  unsafe 
for  one,  other  than  a  fairy,  to  venture  within,  else  he  would 
be  subject  to  magic  spell. 

Page  98.  Nine  times  three  and  three  times  nine:  Multiples  of 
three  and  nine  were  particularly  affected  by  witches,  both  old 
and  new.  In  Fairf axe's  "Tasso"  (book  xiii.,  stanza  6),  we  read: 

"Witchcraft  loveth  numbers  odd." 
In  Macbeth,  one  of  the  witches  says: 

"Thrice  and  once  the  hedge-pig  whined," 
rather  than  make  use  of  the  even  number,  four. 


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